Bad Morning: Bobby Keniston Talks More About Rejection

Greetings, and welcome to Theater is a Sport.  I am your host, Bobby Keniston, and I keep this little part of the internet to write about theater.  As always, feel free to comment below if you agree with me, or think I'm full of poo.

Today's post is a bit more personal than usual--- I tend to like to act like an instructor of sorts, give out tips and advice, but, today, well, I've had the wind knocked out of my sails for a little bit.  I'll be fine, of course, I'm used to it, but, for the moment, I'd rather just write and see what happens.

I've talked about rejection before, but it bears repeating for anyone who is interested in pursuing theater, acting, and writing as a livelihood, or even just as a hobby.  You are going to face a great deal of rejection, and you have to learn to deal with that and not let it knock you all over the place.  At least, don't let it knock you all over the place for too long.

So this morning, I check my email, and, lo and behold, there is a nice rejection note from a nice company for a play I recently submitted.  It is a company I have other plays published with, and a good relationship with--- I like them a whole lot, love how they handle my plays, and am grateful for the work they do getting my plays productions all around the country.  I like the company so much, I gave them an exclusive first look at this new play, when, usually, I submit to a few companies at the same time.

Okay, so I should be used to rejection by now, shouldn't I?  I've been in the business long enough, and have certainly been rejected plenty of times.  Yet this rejection has hit me harder than many others, and I am trying to figure out why.

You see, usually, the second I get a rejection notice, the first thing I do is submit the play to another company.  It's good for the soul.  So I did that very thing this morning.  I went to another company I love, who have an online submission form.  I uploaded the play, filled in all the information, revised my synopsis to make sure it was as good as could be, spent a good half hour making sure everything was as it should be, and when I pressed the button to submit, and error occurred, telling me to try again later.  So, I don't really have that feeling of satisfaction yet, the feeling of moving on and trying again after my rejection.  I'm not going to let a computer error keep me from submitting to this second company, of course, but I just can't fill it all out again at this moment.  I don't have the energy.

So here I am, thinking about my rejection.

It's natural, and, indeed okay to feel bad about being rejected.  In fact, it's not easy to feel good about it.  It's all right to think, but not to wallow, and so, hopefully, this blog post will help me move things in the right direction.

So why is this one bothering me so much?  Here are some thoughts:

1.  I haven't had a play rejected in a while.  My submission numbers have been down this year, and every play I have submitted has been accepted.

2.  I really thought this company was going to accept this play.  Which, I guess goes to show, you shouldn't be overconfident about such things.  I just thought this particular company would think itself a good home for this particular script.  Alas, that is not my decision to make, and, nor should it be.  This is a fine company that knows what it is doing, and, if they don't think they can sell this particular script, then they made the right decision.  Again, their rejection letter was kind, and very mindful of the fact that I am currently one of their writers.  I shouldn't have assumed they would like this one as much as some of the others I have with them already.  (Of course, it's not necessarily a matter of "liking" the script, but whether they feel its right for their catalog--- two very different things)

3.  Many of the plays I write are accepted without a prior production, so I've never really seen them on their feet.  This show, however, I produced with my hometown theater as part of an evening of one acts.  I directed the play, had a great cast, and I saw fist hand how well audiences responded to the play.  So much laughter and cheering!  People loved it!  I've never had such positive feedback for a play I've written and directed!  And my hometown doesn't necessarily get excited about theater all that often.  I know the script is easy to produce, has witty dialogue, but is also poignant--- I've heard the laughs and seen the other emotional impacts of it--- so, I guess, what I'm saying is, I know that the play PLAYS and PLAYS WELL.

4.  Because it was so successful in production, perhaps I was riding high on the script as a surefire win.  It's easy to do so when you see how much an audience loves it.  It's like you've got proof that it should be a "hit", because your individual production was a hit.  But the page and the stage are two different things.

So, yeah, I'll get over this, and fairly quickly, but I am going to allow myself to feel upset about it for a while.

Perhaps that will make it all the more sweeter when the script does find a home.


To Learn More about my published plays, CLICK HERE, OR HERE, OR HERE, OR HERE!

I've started a new blog where I am writing a short story every day for a whole year!  Each story will be between 100-250 words.  Please check it out!  (I've had too much rejection for one day).  
CLICK HERE to read my new blog!

How to Write a Play or How to Enjoy Repeatedly Banging Your Head Against the Wall, Lesson 9: Who Are We Writing For?

Mr. Kurt Vonnegut, a hero of mine, and someone who wrote for only one person

Hello ladies and gentlemen.  My name is Bobby Keniston, and I will be your host on this blog.  It's Tuesday here at Theater is a Sport, so those who follow my blogs know what that means...

TIME FOR ANOTHER PLAYWRITING LESSON!

Tonight's advice is actually for any writer, whether it be for plays, stories, novels, poems, songs, or anything else you put pen to paper to create. 

Today, I was going through some of my earlier published plays looking for quotes to use for a new promotion that Brooklyn Publishers is doing on their website.  I noticed how as I went through some of these older plays, line by line, that I really ejoyed them.  I realized as I was reading them that, while I was writing them, I either didn't have a playwriting "career" yet, or, it was so new and fresh, that there were no worries about how it was doing.  I was writing with a kind of freedom of someone embarking on a new adventure in their life, which, in truth is what I was.  I also realized as I looked over these older plays, that I was writing for one person and one person alone.

My Ideal Reader. 

Those of you familiar with Stephen King's book On Writing (I like Stephen King--- he's a fellow Maine boy), know that he talks a great deal about his Ideal Reader, who happens to be his wife, Tabitha.  Kurt Vonnegut, who I think of as one of the most creative modern American novelists, also wrote for only one person--- his sister.  And he continued to write for her even after she died.  He thought of her as his twin, even though they were not twins. 

There are great benefits to having an Ideal Reader, and I recommend it, even though it is NOT necessary to have one to be a successful writer.  Some of the benefits are pretty obvious--- someone to read your first draft, someone who knows you well and knows what you want to accomplish.  They are a great indicator of how well you are handling the wheel. 

But there's more to it than that.

Vonnegut himself mentioned the idea that if you are writing for the masses, if you arre writing for vast appeal and acceptance, it can wear you out, keep your head spinning, take you completely off the map.  In this regard, having one Ideal Reader can keep you get focused... after all, now all you're trying to do is please one person, make one person laugh.  You are now only performing for an audience of one, and can direct all that energy into that job, which is much easier than trying to please everyone under the sun or snow or rain.

Perhaps the biggest advantage of having an Ideal Reader is that, presumably, since it is someone you love, this love will shine through in the writing, even if it is tough subject matter.  In this mode, writing becomes a kind of gift that you are sharing, a gift that comes from within your mind, heart and soul.  And it is also giving a gift to yourself as a writer, the act of creating something you love so deeply for someone you love so deeply.

As I was reading over these older plays, I could remember in the act of writing them imagining my Ideal Reader reading them for the first time, the laughs they might evoke, the parts that make my IR cry.... it was such an important inspiration for me to have this person to write for.  It made the early productivity of my publishing career possible.  I can never be grateful enough for Ideal Reader for this help and encouragement.  I look at it now and I truly remember my mindset when writing:  I literally wanted to impress my Ideal Reader and wanted this person to be proud of me.  That is what drove me to keep going.  And I was lucky that my Ideal Reader is so universal that so many other people seem to really like my plays, too.  (Which is a relief). 

Now don't get me wrong--- I also write to please my audience, and I also try to write work that I think will sell and make others happy, but that first draft is always for my reliable I.R.  A "look what I made this time!" mentality, that makes the whole creative process less painful for me.

Again, don't freak out if you don't have an Ideal Reader.  You'll know when you meet them.  They are a person who can be honest without being crushing, who has the same kind of aesthetic sensibilities as you do, someone who, quite frankly, gets you and what you are trying to do.  Who better to let you know if they think you've achieved it or not.  And there's nothing like seeing the smile on your Ideal Reader's face when they are proud of you.

Okay, maybe this is a light weight post, but I don't care.  I'm just being honest.  I was just struck by how much easier those I.R. inspired early plays were to write than some others.  It's kind of amazing what it can do for you. 

I thank you for reading my post tonight, and I wish you all the best as you continue to work on writing your plays.  Don't give up.  Keep moving forward with dialogue, and work towards completion.  You'll be glad you did.

Until next time, you can learn more about me from the links below, and remember:  theater is not just a craft or artform--- it is also a sport.

http://www.brookpub.com/default.aspx?pg=ab&afn=Bobby&aln=Keniston

http://www.histage.com/author/authorinfo.asp?AuthorID=528

http://www.playscripts.com/author.php3?authorid=1113

http://www.hitplays.com/default.aspx?pg=ab&afn=Bobby&aln=Keniston

https://www.facebook.com/#!/TheaterIsASport

https://www.facebook.com/#!/pages/Bobby-Keniston-Playwright-Page/148232788536601

How to Write a Play or How to Enjoy Repeatedly Banging Your Head Against the Wall, Lesson 5: Making a Contract With Your Audience

Hello, my name is Bobby Keniston, and welcome to Theater is a Sport.  Today is Tuesday, so any regular reader knows that I'm here to talk about writing a play today.  Yippie!

Today I wanted to talk about the most important contract a playwright must uphold.  It is not with a producer, though, please be sure to check the fine print, and it is not with a publisher even though I readily admit you should read it carefully before you sign. 

The contract I'm talking about today is the contract you make with your audience. 

When a person sits down to watch a play, this viewer enters into a contract with the playwright (and the production in general) within the first few minutes.  Children's audiences can be both the easiest and the hardest audiences to have a contract with--- easiest because if you have your character say, "Hi!  I'm Paul Bunyon!", the kids will most likely respond, "Hi Paul!"  This is a good thing, because children are much more in tune with their imaginations than adults and will accept a given circumstance at a word.  However, they can be the hardest to maintain the contract with because they seem to have an inherent, visceral understanding of storytelling--- in short, if you have characters behaving in ways that don't ring true, a new plot development that feels false, and they will tune out and let you know they have tuned out. 

It is the same with adults, only perhaps adults are not as exuberant in their praise or disdain (I should say, "some adults", as there are others who are pretty exuberant).  Generally, though, I would hypothesize that adults take a little bit longer to accept the given circumstances of a play, but will also give the author a tiny bit more leeway when things may seem to be going awry, whether in a plot or in a character.  Perhaps adults are more accustomed to what seem like non sequiturs in real life.

All right, let's talk about some different types of contracts.

Let's take a look at this short exchange from Edward Albee's Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf:

GEORGE:  Just don't start on the bit, that's all.
MARTHA:  The bit?  The bit?  What kind of language is that?  What are you talking about?
GEORGE:  The bit.  Just don't start in on the bit.
MARTHA:  You imitating one of your students, for God's sake?  What are you trying to do?  WHAT BIT?
GEORGE:  Just don't start in on the bit about the kid, that's all?
MARTHA:  What do you take me for?
GEORGE:  Much too much.
MARTHA:  (really angered)  Yeah?  Well I'll start in on the kid if I want to.
GEORGE:  Just leave the kid out of this.
MARTHA:  (Threatening)  He's mine as much as he is yours.  I'll talk about him if I want to.
GEORGE:  I'd advise against it, Martha.

All right--- aside from giving us further ideas about how these characters interact, the great Mr. Albee (and his is very great, in my humble opinion) is also making a contract with the audience in this moment.  Because so much energy is spent by George in this short passage to not bring up the "bit about the kid", and Martha returns the energy with forceful assurances she will "talk about him if I want to", Mr. Albee is telling the audience that "the bit about the kid" is very important.  Now, like any other good playwright, Mr. Albee will proceed to lay in even more hints about the kid throughout this very long play. 

So--- imagine, if after this exchange, "the bit about the kid" was never brought up again.  That this detail was never discussed again for the entirety of the show.  This is the kind of detail my playwriting professor, Gladden Schrock, would have called an 8-foot bear, meaning, you, as a writer, have to address it later on.  You have to.  Why?  Because by bringing it up to the audience in the first place, you have made a contract with them.

Make sense?   (Sorry---- that's something I say to my actual students quite a bit in the classroom--- "make sense?")

Let's look at another example of a contract a writer makes with the audience, though, this time, not about plot, but about overall aesthetic and tone. 

Anton Chekhov's Uncle Vanya, another favorite play of mine, is a family comedy/drama (I'm not saying that it is "for the whole family", I'm saying it is about family, as well as other things).  Throughout the play we see the conflict between Vanya and the Professor, Vanya's flirtations with the young wife of the professor, Vanya's growing disgust not only with himself, but with the Professor, a man he once admired.  At the end, there is a big blow-up when the Professor wants to sell the estate, ultimately kicking Vanya, Vanya's mother, and Vanya's niece out into the cold, after they had worked for years keeping the estate and sending all of their money to the Professor.  Vanya has a bit of a breakdown, accusing the Professor of ruining his life.  It is a powerful moment, and a somewhat inevitable one.

Let's say, just for argument's sake, that all of a sudden, here in late Act III or a four-act play, Chekhov decided, as Vanya was breaking down, to have him turn into a giant cockroach.  Out of nowhere.  Boom, suddenly Vanya is a big cockroach.  And then, amazingly, in act four, Vanya was back to being human and no one even mentioned the fact that he had turned into a cockroach at all. 

I know this is a ridiculous example, of course, but it is also a clear one of a playwright breaking an aesthetic contract.  Yes, I know, I threw in some Kafka, and you might say, "Well, if it works for Kafka, why not for Chekhov?"  The answer is simple--- Kafka sets up a very different contract than what Chekhov does.

The same is true for an absurdist like Ionesco.  He can have people turning into rhinos because that's the contract he sets up from the beginning. 

There is a movie out there called From Dusk til Dawn that I know a lot of people like.  It was a movie I was looking forward to when I was in high school, because I was a big Tarantino fan.  However, when I saw the film, I was disappointed.  The first half is a very serious crime drama, where you get to know the characters in a certain way.  I was very entertained by it.  Suddenly, in the second half, the movie becomes about vampires, and relishes in a B-movie cheesy aesthetic, the characters too, suddenly becoming B-movie cut-outs.  I happen to like B-movies.  I also happen to like crime dramas.  So why was I disappointed with From Dusk til Dawn?

Because it cheated.  It did not write or direct itself into a B-movie from the crime drama.  It just went there.  The characters did not naturally transform into B-movie heroes and heroines, they just went there.  In short, a contract was broken with me, the viewer. 

I'm not saying you can't have tonal shifts in your play.  I'm a fan of tonal shifts, and a fan of genre-bending.  But you have to EARN it.  You have to WORK FOR IT.  You can't just plop the audience there and say, "hey, it's still fun, right?"

It may still be fun.  But that doesn't mean it's still good, or, even worse, still satisfying. 

Your audience, if they've stuck with you for any length of time, deserves to be satisfied. 

To go right to PLAYWRITING LESSON NUMBER 6, simply click HERE

Okay, that's all we have time for today at Theater is a Sport.  If you want to learn more about me, please feel free to follow the links at the end of the post.  In the meantime, this is Bobby Keniston reminding you to respect the contracts you make with an audience, and please remember--- theater is not only a craft and an artform... it is also a sport.

https://www.facebook.com/#!/TheaterIsASport
https://www.facebook.com/#!/pages/Bobby-Keniston-Playwright-Page/148232788536601