Writing With a Message: How and Why I Wrote "The Re-Programming of Jeremy"

The Poster from St. Paul's School's Production of my play, "The Re-Programming of Jeremy"

So, once upon a time, I wrote this play...

Actually, if you're familiar with this blog, you know I've written a number of plays.  I rarely shut about it.  In fact, in the interest of self-promotion, I will occasionally write things like "You can learn more about my plays by clicking HERE or HERE or HERE," and, of course, please feel free to do so if you're of the mind.  However, you can click on all of those links and check out all of those pages, and even though you'll learn about many of the plays, you won't learn about the play I'm going to talk about today.  This one, The Re-Programming of Jeremy remains unpublished.

But unpublished does not mean without a life of its own.

I wrote The Re-Programming of Jeremy, in its original form, back in 2010, at a rather feverish pace. The play is about a gay teen named Jeremy, who has killed himself after bullying at school and home, and then being sent to a "straight camp," that was designed to "re-program" him, cure him of his homosexuality.  The play is a series of monologues told by Jeremy's friends, family, a teacher, and the woman who ran the straight camp he was sent to.  In the first draft, Jeremy appeared only once, near the end of the play, and gave the longest monologue of all, about tolerance and acceptance.

I wrote the play in two writing sessions, at the Thompson Free Library in Dover-Foxcroft, ME. There was company at my house, and a lot going on, which made it difficult to write, and I had this burning idea I had to get down, so I brought my computer to the library and wrote fast.  The play has gone through a number of drafts since that day in 2010, but it a good deal of what I wrote over those two days still remains.

I suppose the question is, why did I feel it was so important for me to get this story down on paper? Here's the thing--- every time I heard a news story about a gay teen who committed suicide, my heart would break.  Whenever I heard a news story about a gay teen who was being bullied and ostracized, my heart would break.  Whenever I heard a news story about a so-called religious group picketing a funeral of a homosexual, not only would my heart break, I would become so angry and disgusted that people could be so cruel in the name of God.  You see, I do identify myself as a Christian, and I think Christians who spew hate speak are not really Christians at all.  Certainly they have the right not to agree with a certain type of lifestyle, no matter how much I disagree with them, but how does hate solve anything?

I had been thinking for a number of years about writing a play that deals with the subject, but every time I did, it was a piece that was attacking the issue from a very angry, overly satirical way, a way that was just as political as it was sarcastic.  A painfully dark comedy type of play.  And while I enjoy a play like that, and have written others about different subjects in that vein, that style didn't feel right to me inside for the story I wanted to tell.

I knew I wanted it to be a HUMAN story first and foremost, where the characters weren't exaggerated.  I knew I wanted the play to transcend the idea of politics, or, at least, blend the political and the personal.  And, of course, I didn't just want to be writing "with a message".  Yes, all playwrights have something to say, and all playwrights, because they are human beings, have thoughts, opinions, and issues they hold very dear.  But to attack a play just from an issue is a tricky proposition, and, at times, an empty one.  Political theater is great, and can make a difference.  It's been around since theater began.  But, if you don't have characters you can relate to, a strong story, and genuine humanity, then you are not serving any message you may be trying to impart.

I was thinking about my idea one day, when suddenly, I just knew I wanted a character to be named Jeremy, and that Jeremy didn't want to be re-programmed.  I have a female friend from college who's name is Jeremy, though she's always been called Mimi. I think that's why the name Jeremy was so strong for me, even though the character is male.  Just having the name for the character made him real to me, a human being, especially since he was named after someone who has always been a great friend to me.  And so I began to imagine Jeremy.  I didn't want him to be flamboyant, or stereotypical, but just a normal teenager with fears, joys, and hopes like any other.  But also knowing he was "different" from the norm.  And then I began to imagine his family, and how is mother wanted to understand him, but couldn't, and how is father tried so hard to love his son, but had his own demons he couldn't conquer.  And it just sort of spread from there.

There's a play I've always liked a great deal called The Incident at San Bajo by Brad Korbesmeyer.  It is a long one act that won the Heidemann Award from the Actors Theatre of Louisville.  It tells the story of a man who tried selling an elixir to residents of a trailer park.  Turns out, this man then poisoned the water of the park, and what he was selling was the antidote.  Only seven people bought it from him.  These seven people tell the story in a series of monologues.  It's a great show, captivating, and I had the chance to direct it once with a high school group.  I love how the show has a documentary feel to it, described by its publisher as a 60 Minutes segment.  The actors answer unheard questions, and tell their story.  They are in different locations, represented by different areas of the stage, and are very different types of people.

I thought this aesthetic would serve the story I wanted to tell very well.  So I decided to give it that same "documentary" type feel in my script.  When Jeremy, who is dead when the play begins, finally does appear, he is somewhat otherworldly, a complete break from the documentary, which had an effect I thought would prove to be powerful.

By writing the play as a series of monologues, it allowed me to get deeply inside each of the characters.  Now, I've never been a teenage girl, or a jock, or a gay teen for that matter, but every character, in some way, came alive for me in some way.  Even the Rev., who's views on homosexuality were the complete opposite of mine.  I found myself digging deep for the humanity of each and every one of them.  Trying to understand their beliefs and opinions, even though it was difficult at times.  And by doing so, not only do I feel the play has a strong message for audiences, the act of writing reinforced a strong message to me--- we are all people.  And though sometimes people are capable of being cruel, even without knowing they are being cruel, they are still people. It is so easy to lose sight of such things when we focus strictly on the political side of an issue.

Even though Jeremy has never been published, it remains one of my favorites of my scripts, and contains some of the best writing I have ever done.

I have a great deal more to say about The Re-Programming of Jeremy--- the initial production, which I self-produced, the wonderful people who believed in the show and helped make it stronger, and how, even now, I am working towards getting the script into as many hands and venues as possible--- but all of this will be reserved for tomorrow's blog post.  So if your curious to learn more about it,  and how it's been rewritten after different productions, and how it's changed over the years, come back tomorrow and read PART TWO of my discussion on the play.

(CLICK HERE to read part two)

And if you are a producer, or teacher, or community theater director who might be interested in reading the show and producing it, drop me a message at theater.is.a.sport@gmail.com.  The licensing rates are very negotiable and fair, and I have seen first hand how audiences react to the piece (which I'll discuss tomorrow).

Until next time--- remember, it's great to write with a message, but make sure the message comes packaged with deep characters and a good story.  And don't be afraid to let your writing teach you something along the way--- it's a great feeling.

TIPS FOR PLAYWRIGHTS ON WRITING A PLAY FOR COMMUNITY THEATER PRODUCTIONS

Lakewood Theater, my summer home, initially designed as a Broadway-style theater in Maine, is now kept alive by hard-working community theater folks called Curtain Up Enterprises.  Who says Community Theater has to be little?

Yesterday, I gave some valuable tips about Writing for the school theater market in a way that will help you get published (to read that article, click here).   This was a lesson for the business side of playwriting, after having done so many posts on the craft of playwriting. 

Today, I'm going to do the same thing for playwrights interested in writing plays for the community theater market.  This is a wide and deep market to tap into, just like school theater.

I want to take a brief moment to say that there is no shame in being a playwright who focuses their energy on writing for these so-called "amateur" markets.  Yes, it would be nice for everyone if their plays could have successful runs at a Regional Theater, or, dare you even hope?, an Off-Broadway or Broadway Theater!  Truth is, I know many playwrights who write for the school and community theater markets, who still have professional productions of other plays quite often.  We must remember that if you want playwriting to be your career, it is also your job, and also your business.  As Tim Kelly, one of the most prolific and vastly-published playwrights in American history once said, "On Broadway you can make a killing, but you can't make a living".  This is true.  Either you're a smash on Broadway or a failure.  There isn't much room for in-between.  (Yes, I am somewhat generalizing here, but please stay with me)  Mr. Kelly had over 350 plays published for the amateur markets, and, at the height of his career, had over 6,000 performances of his plays a YEAR.  All over the world (his plays were translated into dozens of languages).  Now, while this might not garner a playwright the same respect as a Tom Stoppard or Harold Pinter (two writers I greatly admire), it will allow you to write for a living, and a six-figure living at that. 

And the truth is, it is difficult for any playwright to make a living from actually writing plays, so Mr. Kelly's advice has grown much more fascinating to me over the years. 

Let's get down to the tips.  You will notice that some of them are similar to the tips for the school theater market, but there are some important differences. 

TIP #1:  Statistically speaking, more females audition for community theater than males (why do you think Steel Magnolias is so popular in the community theater circuit?)  If possible, write more parts for females than for males.  Or, gender-flexible roles.  It has been an ongoing joke at many community theaters that I have worked at that if you're a male and come to an audition, you're most likely in. 

TIP #2:  Here are some of the popular genres for community theater, in, what I believe to be most popular to least popular:  musical, farce, comedy, mystery, "dramedy" (a comedy with some serious, poignant overtones), and drama.  There is also the ever-popular "Musical Revue" (see something like Ted Swindley's Always, Patsy Cline or Honky Tonk Angels, which are, honestly as they are billed, recession-proof).  As you can see, in my opinion, dramas are a harder sell, but, most respectable community theaters will do at least one of them per season, so they are worth writing.  Of course, I love writing dramas.

TIP #3:  While I do believe far more full-lengths are written for the community theater markets, there are community theater festivals that put on one-acts, so there is a market for one acts in community theater.  I have had two plays of mine attend festivals put on by the AACT (American Association of Community Theaters), and it is very exciting and a great way to network with other hard-working community theaters (who, by the way, put on some pretty professional-looking productions sometimes).  In fact, my play The Girl I'm Gonna Marry (read more about it by clicking here), did very well by attending one of these festivals. 

TIP #4:  Cast size is different for community theater than for school theater.  Unless a show is a musical or an adaptation of a classic (like A Christmas Carol), I don't recommend writing for a huge cast.  The reason is simple:  many people don't audition for community theater because they have jobs and kids and can't make a ton of time for other things.  It can be very difficult to cast a large play. (Obviously, there are exceptions, like Our Town or something, but it is also easier to cast a show most people have heard of than a new one).  I would not exceed 10 characters for a standard community theater straight play, and I actually try to keep it between 7 and 9, again, more females than males.  A farce in particular should be kept between 7 and 9.  Not a steadfast rule, some might disagree, but I'm talking in generalizations for this post.

TIP #5:  Community theater shows can be a bit more "racy" than high school theater shows, maybe a little bad language here and there, but I still would recommend, for community theater in-general, to keep it somewhat cleaner than an NYC theater district production.  No Mamet-like "F-Bombs" every other line.  You might get some productions, but you are shutting yourself off from a great many more.  In a sense, you should remember that you're writing for Middle America, or the grange houses and town halls as well as the Little Theaters.  Besides, the cleaner you keep it, the more likely you are to achieve...

TIP #6:  ... THE CROSSOVER PLAY.  A crossover play is a play that is not only done at community theaters, but also at high schools.  If you can keep it clean enough, and interesting enough, you may find yourself with a play that works in both markets, and increase your productions and royalties quite nicely.  The aforementioned Tim Kelly had a large number of crossover plays, as does Pat Cook, who I interviewed for this blog a while back.  (You can read that interview by clicking here--- trust me, it's worth a read if you're interested in this business)

TIP #7:  Keep the sets SIMPLE.  A unit set (one set for the entire show) or a representational set that can be moved quickly and easily to keep things flowing.  Community theaters by and large do not have huge budgets.

One last note that I think is very important.  AMATEUR THEATER (schools, community) is VITAL for our culture.  People who will never have the opportunity to see a show on Broadway or the West End, or even a Regional Theater with ticket prices of up to $50, will still be able to see their friends and family in a community theater production for $10-15.  I do not feel I am overstating when I say that COMMUNITY THEATER HELPS KEEP THE TRADITION OF THEATER ALIVE.  It is important, just as important as writing an in-depth piece of art for the more theater-going elite crowd.  You don't have to win a Pulitzer to make a difference in the field of playwriting.  Remember, Shakespeare wrote to please everyone, from the groundlings to the Queen. 

Let's keep that going, shall we?

Thanks for reading this article.  Feel free to comment below, or subscribe to my blog.  And if you want, you can even drop me a line at theater.is.a.sport@gmail.com

Until next time, remember that theater is not only a craft, or an art form, or a business--- it is also a sport.

 

                   The Center Theatre, My Home Town Community Theater in Dover-Foxcroft, ME

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 8: Let's Talk About Dialogue

Talk

Greetings everyone.  My name is Bobby Keniston, and I am your host here at Theater is a Sport.  Thank you for taking the opportunity to check out my blog.

For my regular readers, well, it's Tuesday, so you know what that means.  Yeah, that's right.  It's time for another lesson about writing a play. 

Are you excited?  You should be.  Today, we are going to talk about dialogue.

Some people say that certain writers have a "natural gift" for dialogue.  Writers as diverse as Pinter, Mamet, Salinger, and Elmore Leonard have all praised for the words they put in their characters' mouths.  "They have an ear for dialogue", people will say.

I don't know how much of that I buy.  Yes, I admit that all of those writers have written compelling dialogue, but, like anything else with writing, it is a skill that can be practiced and perfected.  You don't need to worry about the ear you were born with, but only be willing to use the ear you have now.

Dialogue in a play has only two purposes.  Ready for them?  Here they are:
1.  Dialogue to advance the audience's knowledge of the character
and
2.  Dialogue must advance the plot.

That's all.  Simple, right? 

Okay, so it's not as easy as it sounds.  One thing you want to make sure to avoid is simple ABAB dialogue, the type of dialogue that an audience knows exactly what is coming next from line to line.  For example:

A:  Hi.
B:  Hello.
A:  How's it going today?
B:  Fine. 
A:  Sure is hot.
B:  Yes.  I'm sweating.
A:  Gross.
B:  People sweat.
A:  You're right.  Sorry.
B:  No problem.

Not very fascinating, is it?  I can't imagine an audience giving their attention to these two speakers for much longer.

How do you avoid ABAB dialogue?  Shake it up a bit.  Try not to let the audience fill in the next line.  Let's take the previous scene, but shake it up a bit, shall we?

A:  Hi.
B:  It's too hot for mindless greetings.
A:  You're in a good mood.  Go change your shirt, you're sweating through it.
B:  Gotta do the laundry.
A:  Your wife making you do your own laundry now?  Good for her.
B:  I'll share your sentiment with her if I ever see or hear from her again.
A:  What?  She left you?
B:  On the hottest day of the year with a full load of laundry to do.
A:  Sorry.

Now granted, this little scene is no prize winner, but it does make an attempt to teach us about the characters and introduce a potential plot point with B's wife having left him. 

Another interesting point to keep in mind when writing dialogue:  You don't have to write like people talk, but should write how people would want to talk if they could.  In real dialogue, there are a great deal of "ummms" and "Uhs" and stumbling over words... some playwrights do fine adding this into their dialogue, but a little bit goes a long way.  Let your charactters talk, and if they talk in a way that most people believe they talk in real life, they will buy it.  (People think they talk much better than they actually do, myself included). 

I know this next piece of advice might seem a little stale, but it is very true when it comes to writing good dialogue.  In order to write good, believable dialogue, you have to KNOW YOUR CHARACTERS.   I have to stress this point again and again.  Just as in life, the more you know who you are, the more confident your personality.  The same is true for your writing.  The more you know your characters, the more confident you will be able to create them for the audience, including how they speak. 

Unless you are trying to deliberately make one or all of your characters inaccessible (and I don't know why you would want to do that), please make your dilogue understandable for most people.  There are exceptions to this rule, but these exceptions usually have brilliant tremendous payoffs because of it.  When you're starting out, try to keep things simple.

Tonight I must be brief, but I hope these few tips about dialogue are helpful to you.  In any case, keep writing and working towards completion.

Thanks for reading.  If you want to know more about me, follow the links below.  And, yes:  theater is a sport.  I should know.  I've played it all my life.

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

How to Write a Play or How to Enjoy Repeatedly Banging Your Head Against the Wall, Lesson 7: Warding off Writer's Block an Embracing and Imperfect Medium

Hello.  My name is Bobby Keniston, and welcome to Theater is a Sport.  It's Tuesday today (at least for another twenty minutes or so), which means it is time for another lesson in playwriting.  This being said, this is also a lesson for anyone who writes anything.

As a playwright and teacher of young playwrights, there is one word that separates successful playwrights from unsuccessful playwrights.  Ready for it?

COMPLETION

Yes, it is true that not every person who completes writing a play (or a story or a novel, etc.) finds widespread success.  On the other hand, a person who never completes a piece has zero chance of finding success.  So there you have it.  The number one goal when starting a piece of writing should be to complete a draft.  This is the big goal in my intro to playwriting class.  Finish.

Finish, finish, finish.

I tell my students that theater, and, hell, all of writing is imperfect, especially a first draft.  That's what makes theater and writing exciting and alive.  Perfection doesn't really exist in the arts, and if it did, it would probably be boring. 

I also tell them this:  the only way to rewrite and rework a first draft they are disappointed with is to HAVE a first draft you are disappointed with.

My first semester as a playwriting student when I was in college was a pretty banner semester.  I wrote a ten-minute play that got a lot of attention, and followed it with a one-act play of about twenty-five minutes, and then followed that by a one-act play of about 55 minutes in duration.  I was a completion machine.  

My second semester, I was moved right from Beginning Playwriting to Advanced Playwriting.  Suddenly, the criticisms in the workshop setting were harsher.  Suddely, I didn't feel like a wunderkind anymore.  Suddenly, I started writing 15 pages of a project and then abandoning it, and then 10 pages, and then 5 pages... you get the idea. 

Even after graduation, for a good time in my twenties, I would begin a piece and then set it aside, worried that it was never going to look or feel like what it did in my head. 

I have a message for all young (and even not-so-young) writers who are reading this: 

IT'S NEVER GOING TO BE WHAT'S IN YOUR HEAD

              (AT LEAST NOT COMPLETELY)

I know this from experience.  From lots of finished plays that I've racked up over the last couple years.  That doesn't mean it won't be close, or, sometimes even BETTER than what is in your head.  It happens.  But if writing were simply a matter of having the ability to precisely transcribe the images from your head perfectly, then it wouldn't be much of an artform, would it?  It would be... well, robotic.  Stale.

I know it is frustrating when things are not working out.  I know that the big old SELF-CRITICAL voices can be strangling.   I take comfort in a quote by William Faulkner, who was pretty damn smart:  "Write.  If it's good, you'll know it, if it isn't, throw it out the window."  You want to abandon a piece once it is finished, then go for it.  Chances are, you won't, not if you've invested the time in creating the first draft.  And that first draft may "utterly suck" (to use a term one of my stuents and, heck, probably I have used), but that's why the Universe invented subsequent drafts.

One should approach playwriting as a serious endeavor, sure, but one should also remember that no one is going to die if scene five craps out and needs a complete overhaul.  Be happy you have a scene five that can be fixed!  At least you don't need a liver transplant, right?

A former writing and literature professor of mine from Bennington, a talented writer named Roland Merullo, has written a book called Demons of the Blank Page where he talks about some of the psychological elements that can keep people from writing or writing at their best.  He has a chapter devoted to "the need to be perfect", a close relation to writer's block, and talks about it much more eloquently than I do here.  I am in no way affiliated with the book other than being a fan, and am receiving no money for mentioning it, but I'm going to offer a link for you here if you're interested:  http://www.amazon.com/Demons-Blank-Page-Roland-Merullo/dp/0983677409/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1364356792&sr=1-1&keywords=demons+of+the+blank+page

For me, in my own life, I had to learn the hard way.  You can't be a writer if you don't finish.  Simple as that.  You need the steam to move forward. 

Here are some tips:

1.  If you need to jump around in the play, do it.  There may be some plot point or bit of dialogue you know will have to happen, but you just don't know how to do it yet.  Move forward.  Fill in the blanks later.  There is no law that says you have to write your play in order. 

2.  The reason writers can get a lot of work done in college is because they have deadlines.  The reason Hollywood Screenwriters can crank out pages is because they have deadlines.  /Believe it or not, deadlines are great things for creativity.  They raise the stakes, force you to tell the self-critical voice to give it a damn rest, you have work that's due.  Now, you may not have school or business deadlines, so I recommend setting some other kind of deadline for yourself  (I think this is why NaNoWriMo is so popular).  Use a tactic like giving your friend something precious of yours and instructing them not to give it back unless you have a first draft in your hands by such and such a date.  Or, if you're good at challenging yourself, you may not have to involve other people, but give it some sense of stakes. 

3.  Here's a tip from Roland's Book:  Mock your self-critical voice.  Seriously.  I've tried it.  It's kind of fun.  Speak to your self-criticism sarcastically, watch it get peeved and sulk away. 

4.  This is one of Roland's tips, too, but it was and is also one of mine, before I read the book.  I tend to have good luck when I write quickly.  Writing fast helps me to keep the self-doubt and criticism away.  There's always room for the self-criticism (which isn't actually a bad thing--- in fact, it's a good thing when you have a draft done) later.  I tend to deflate myself if I don't get the draft out as fast as I can, and when I deflate myself, I deflate the project.  Enthusiasm is positive.  Write fast, when it still feels fresh, like a Honeymoon period. 

Again, these are all just suggestions.  Everyone has their own method.  And any method that leads to completion for you is a good method.

And if it doesn't?  Well, all I can say is try something another way to get to the finish line or maybe rethink your goals of being a writer.

Thanks for checking out my blog.  Until next time, imperfection can be a good thing, and theater is a sport.

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How to Write a Play or How to Enjoy Repeatedly Banging Your Head Against the Wall, Lesson 6: VOICE

VOICE

Hello everyone.  My name is Bobby Keniston, and I would like to welcome you fondly to Theater is a Sport.  It is Tuesday, March 19th, and it is snowing hard in the state of Maine, including the small town of Dover-Foxcroft, where I send these letters and words out to you, dear readers.  I apologize to any regular readers for an unintended hiatus.  I am back now, and will try to write on a daily basis, sharing my thoughts about theater with all of you.  I hope you enjoy it.

Since it is Tuesday, that means it is time for another playwriting lesson.  I know you are all probably very excited about that.  After all, I studied this stuff pretty hard in college, and here I am, sharing some tricks I've picked up along the way for free.  How 'bout that?

On this snowy (for me) evening, I would like to dedicate this lesson to the idea of voice.  Not your speaking voices, of course, but the voice of your characters. 

It is crucial to be conscious of your character's voice, and just as crucial to keep it consistent.  This kind of talk is a bit of a precursor to the greater discussion of what we call dialogue.

As we begin to think about the voices for each of our characters, let us first think about people's voices in real life.  What makes up a person's voice and speech?

There are a number of things, naturally:  cadence, volume, syntax, accent; pronounciation, breath control, repeated phrases, vocabulary.... a whole bunch of stuff.

That's a lot of stuff, isn't it?  And that's not even everything when it comes to voice! There's also depth, timbre, and so much more. 

Before you begin to worry that it is impossible to keep all of that stuff consistent, I'm going to share a little secret with you about how to keep all of this stuff on an even keel without too much effort. 

Here goes:

KNOW YOUR CHARACTERS

Okay, so maybe that's not as simple as it sounds, or, at least, not all of the time.  However, if you really know your characters, you know your characters voice.  All of the things I have listed almost become automatic during composition (or at least consistent enough until cleaning up details in revision). 

Okay, let's look at an example:

Let's say you are writing a character of a punk rocker named DOUBLE EDGE.  He's in full punk gear, safety pin through a nostril, mowhawk haircut died green, punk clothes, combat boots, the whole works.  You see him clearly in your mind, and he looks pretty scary.   Let's take a look at some dialogue for DOUBLE EDGE:

DOUBLE EDGE:  I mean, gosh, all I was trying to do was sell some baked goods to raise money for the church, and those darn police officers came and told me I needed a permit!  Since when do you need a permit to do a good deed?  What the heck!?

What I have to say may surprise you, so I'll go with the first:  you don't expect the guy to be saying these things, and, unless explained why he might talk like that, audiences will be confused and may call shenanigans.

That is, of course, unless, like the clever playwright you are, you have decided to invert the cliche and have a punk rocker who was just born again and now leads a successful Christian punk band.  If we learn this information about Double Edge, then, of course, it makes complete sense and rings true why he would talk this way.  If this is not the case.... well, that dialogue feels very false to an audience, right?

As yourself this question when you are writing:  are you hearing your characters' voices, or are you hearing your voice imitating your characters?  Don't beat yourself up if you find that it is the latter for some of your characters.  That's okay.  It takes practice.  In college, most of the plays I wrote, I acted out in my head all the time, hearing my voice doing impressions of my creations.  This happens when you're growing as a writer (in fact, it still happens to me from time to time).

However, the best feeling of all is when you can honestly say that your characters are talking to you, and they are giving you a voice and not the other way around.  Don't worry--- that will come.

Thank you for reading Theater is a Sport today.  If you would like to become a fan on facebook, please feel free to follow this link:  https://www.facebook.com/#!/TheaterIsASport

If you would like to learn more about me, feel free to follow this link:  https://www.facebook.com/pages/Bobby-Keniston-Playwright-Page/148232788536601

In any case, I hope wherever you are, you are warm and safe.  My internet is spotty right now due to the snow, so I have to cut this a little short, so, please understand that this is an abbreviated lesson about voice.  Later tonight, if conditions improve, I will be writing another post to make up for my lack these last few days.  In the meantime, please remember that knowing your characters will help keep your voices consistent for you and the audience, and, of course--- remember that theater is not only a craft and an artform, but also a sport. 

See you later.

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.

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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 Three--- Conflict

Hello everyone and welcome to Theater is a Sport.  It's Tuesday, February 26th, so that means it's time for lesson number three in our playwriting tutorial.  Everyone ready?

The above picture is a public domain image that represents the word conflict.  Conflict, as I have said before, is what makes good drama.  Truly, you cannot write a play without conflict, or, at least you shouldn't.

So where does conflict come from?

Conflict comes from want.  One character wants something, another character wants either the opposite, or, to keep the first character from getting what they want.  And there you have it--- conflict!

Do the characters have to look as upset as they do above?  No, of course not.  Not all conflicts are huge conflicts. 

Kurt Vonnegut once said that every character in a story has to want something... even if it is only a glass of water.  (Vonnegut, aside from being a novelist, short story writer and essayist, also wrote a number of plays). 

To provide an example, let's take a look at an example of conflict based on Mr. Vonnegut's advice.  Take a look:

SETTING:  The kitchen of MARK and KAREN LASSITER.  It is a kitchen of affluent couple--- modern refrigerator, all the best appliances, etc. 

AT RISE:  KAREN LASSITER, a pretty woman in her early 30s stands near the kitchen sink, trying to turn on the faucet.  She stops after a few tries, sighs, and picks up a nearly empty bottle of water and finishes the last swallow.  As she does so, MARK LASSITER, a handsome young man in his early 30s, enters wearing sweaty workout clothes.

MARK:  Morning, sweetie.
KAREN:  Good workout?
MARK:  (Playfully)  Definitely got my sweat on. 
KAREN:  I can smell it from here.
MARK:  You love it!  Can you pass me a bottle of water?
KAREN:  (moving away from the sink)  Sorry, babe, just drank the last one.
MARK:  No problem.  (he grabs a glass from the cupboard and crosses to the sink.  He tries to turn on the faucet.  Nothing happens)  What's wrong with the sink?
KAREN:  Huh?
MARK:  Why isn't any water coming out?
KAREN:  (innocently)  Oh, is there something wrong with the sink?
MARK:  You didn't know?
KAREN:  No... I mean, I haven't really used the sink yet this morning. 
MARK:  Can I have a sip of your water?
KAREN:  I just drank the last swallow before you came in.  Sorry. 
MARK:  I need to hydrate.  I just did five miles on the elliptical. 
KAREN:  I don't know what to tell you. 
(MARK thinks, then opens the freezer)
MARK:  We must have some ice.  (retrieves an empty ice cube tray)  Why is there any empty ice cube tray in the freezer?
KAREN:  I like ice.
MARK:  Well so do I.  That's why I like to fill the tray when it is empty, so we can have a continuous supply of ice in our house. 
KAREN:  Mark, you stink.  Give me the ice tray and go take a shower.
MARK:  I'm thirsty!
KAREN:  Then lean your head back and open your mouth while you're in there.  Just try not to drown.
MARK:  I don't find that funny.

Okay, you get the idea.  And yes, this may not be the best play in the world so far (although I would argue that we are beginning to learn something about who these people really are and what their relationship is like, all because of water), but it is an example of conflict and how it can escalate.  Beforre long, in a real play, we would have to see some sese of stakes emerge, and, perhaps, a greater conflict be revealed. 

What are some good examples of conflict?  The examples are endless.  Human beings are good at conflict, large and small.  The world is full of people not getting what they want.  The world is also full of people who work hard to overcome obstacles in order to achieve what they want.  Some people never achieve what they truly desire, no matter how hard they work toward it.  It's all drama.  It's all part of the human experience.  From wanting a glass of water to preventing a nuclear apocalypse, conflict equals drama, so long as the stakes keep moving and the characters stay true. 

Those of you lovely readers who have been tuning in every Tuesday--- I'm sure you have been reading plays, thinking about structure, and have all written your very first monologues.  Good for you!  Your assignment for this week is as follows:
-Write a two-person scene dealing with conflict
-Make the conflict obvious (make it clear what each character wants)
-Try to think of this scene as its very own self-contained play with a beginning, middle and end.
-When you've finished writing your scene, find someone to read it out loud with.  Does the dialogue ring true?  Does the conflict feel honest? 

Length, genre, situation, and characters are all up to you.  Just remember:  "want" and "conflict".  Don't worry too much right now about sloppy dialogue or other mechanics--- this week is about focusing on want and conflict (though it is never a bad thing to pay attention to how the dialogue sounds, even at this stage). 

If you have any other questions about conflict, feel free to e-mail me at theater.is.a.sport@gmail.com  If you would like to become a fan of Theater is a Sport on Facebook, follow this link:  https://www.facebook.com/#!/TheaterIsASport

Thanks you for checking out playwriting lesson number 3 at Theater is a Sport.

To go directly to LESSON NUMBER 4, simply click HERE

Until next time, remember:  theater is, in fact, a sport, and conflict doesn't always need resolution. 

WRITING INSPIRATION: How and Why I Wrote "Sky Baby and the Bedtime Story"

A little princess peeling a potato (or, if you want to, imagine it's a grapefruit)

Hello, everyone.  It's Saturday, February 23rd here at Theater is a Sport.  My name is Bobby Keniston, and today, I'm going to share with you a little bit about the writing process of one of my published plays, a sweet little story with a fairytale element called Sky Baby and the Bedtime Story.

Once upon a time, I was blessed in my life to be in a relationship with a young woman who had a little girl.  I had never been in such a situation before, and it came with some nervousness.  After all, I wasn't the girl's father, and I really didn't know all that much about how to be such a huge part of a child's life.  She was one years old, with a pretty little smile and a cute, single ponytail on the top of her head when I met her.  She was just grasping the art of walking, and took wide little Frankenstein steps.  I liked her right away, and, of course, as my relationship progressed with her mother, I loved the little girl with all of my heart. 

It was my first experience with a love that can only be described as paternal.  I watched her grow from the age of 1 to the age of three, and was a part of her life on a daily basis for this time.  Eventually, the relationship between me and her mother came to an end, and I missed the little girl very, very much. 

Children teach us a great deal.  The greatest lesson they can give, if you are willing to pay attention, is how to see the world through their eyes, and, perhaps remember what it looked like when you were that age.  It is not always easy, and at times, the communication gap can be very frustrating, but it is a joy, all of it, and you see the joy in it all the more clearly when you are no longer a part of it. 

I have too many fond memories with this little one to pick a favorite, but there are some that stand out and always make me smile.  I remember picking her up at her babysitter's, and it was close to Easter, so her babysitter had given her a little gift baggie with some candy and some crayons.  As we drove home, she took one of the crayons from her baggie and and began to draw on my car.  "Sweetie, you can't do that, okay?," I said.  "You can't draw on my car."  She smiled, and told me, "But I can, Bobby!  I can!"  There was no hint of defiance in her voice.  She was assuring me that the crayons worked, and were, indeed, leaving a mark on my car.  It was just so adorable, that I couldn't help but laugh, and I let her draw on my car.  In fact, months later, when I was no longer a part of her every day life, I would look at those markings on the car and feel a new, bittersweet longing to see the girl who was not my daughter, but who I loved like one. 

So, in any case, it was missing this little girl and wanting to write a play for her that inspired me to write Sky Baby and the Bedtime Story.  I was back in my hometown of Dover-Foxcroft and had been for about a year.  Patrick Myers, the executive director of the Center Theatre at the time, recommended me to direct the one-act plays for Foxcroft Academy, my old alma mater (and also where I teach drama part-time now).  I was going to direct three one-act plays, and the caveat (something about a grant for funding) was that one of the plays had to be good for children, something we could perhaps take to local schools.  So I offered to write that one, and took the opportunity to write the play I wanted for the little girl who had changed my life.

In the play, the little girl, Sky (called Sky Baby by her mom), is 4 years old and a little bit of a genius.  She's a bit too smart to just be precocious.  Sky's mother and father are divorced, and her mother is dating a sweet guy named Barry, and it appears they are getting serious, because, when the play starts, Sky's mother is making clear that Barry will be telling Sky her bedtime story for the night.  Barry is very nervous, and is truly afraid that Sky just doesn't like him. 

After Sky's mother leaves Barry and Sky alone, Sky begins to make it clear that Barry cannot read her a story, but has to tell her a story.  So they begin to create a story together, and, as they do, characters from the story come into Sky's room, turning it into a fairytale land.  Sky becomes Princess Sky Baby, Barry becomes the Nervous Knight, and off we go.  As they create this story together (often stopping and snapping back to the real world), they get to know one another, and Sky starts to understand a bit more about her parents' divorce. 

Some of my favorite moments are when Sky instructs Barry on the art of telling stories.  I kind of made her expert.  She talkes about "raising the stakes" by creating a Giant Monster Person, and, when Barry worries that this is too scary and perhaps they should make the monster nice, Sky tells him, "He can't be nice from the beginning, or his character will have no place to grow from.  Gee whiz, Barry, don't you know ANYTHING about telling stories?"

Since I was writing the play for students at Foxcroft, I could tailor some certain parts and scenes.  For example, in the original script, I had two International Students from China who were involved, and so I made them the Mysterious Ladies of the Forest, who gave Barry and Sky Baby instructions in Chinese, with Barry and Sky Baby trying to figure out what they were saying... at the end of the scene, they spoke to them in perfect English, surprising the two.  "You needed to learn how to really listen," they tell Sky and Barry, before skipping merrily away.

I submitted the script to Brooklyn Publishers who had already published my plays Rumplestilskin the R-Dawg, Hip-Hop Minstrel and my ten minute duet, Death and Pez (which will have its own blog post sometime down the line).  David liked the script, but asked me to change the Mysterious Ladies scene to somehow make it work for schools which perhaps did not have International students.  So I made the scene with the Two Mysterious Ladies into a big charade scene, with Barry and Sky Baby trying to figure out what the Ladies are acting out.  Then, at the end of the scene, the ladies speak to them, keeping the same kind of surprise from the original.  David liked the change and agreed to publish the script. 

When we performed at the Center Theatre, Sky Baby and the Bedtime Story was a great success, but it was an even bigger success when we took it to Guilford Primary School.  We performed it on a small stage that was used as a strorage space, and even had a photocopier on it.  We covered up alot of the stuff, but I decided to leave the photocopier and had my actors add a few last minute lines about how Sky Baby was so smart, all she wanted for her birthday was a photocopier (these did not stick it out for the published script).  I think it was about a hundred kids who were there, grades 1-4, and they loved Sky Baby, the play and the character.  It was a high school girl named Vanessa Cousins playing the part, and many of them wanted her to come over to their house and be their friends.  Kids truly are the best audience for theater... they accept things so quickly, and, as long as you don't take a wrong turn in the writing, they keep that acceptance all the way through.  You tell them Sky Baby is four, and they believe you, as long as she keeps acting like a four year old (with a heightened vocabulary... but still with the occasional tantrum).  Barry, also known as the Nervous Knight (who was pretty obviously based off of me), was played by John Levenseller.  The rest of the cast included Paige Hobbs as Christine, Sky's Mom (and the Queen in the story within the story), and Patrick Taggett as the Giant Monster Person (who was half-person, half-monster, and who was stealing all the grapefruits in the village).  Kids loved it when the Nervous Knight confronted the Giant Monster Person at the end, but, not with violence (Barry wouldn't allow it), but with an epic round of thumb wrestling. 

Not only did the kids love it, but the teachers loved it for the lessons it taught about working together, not judging people, and the way it handled a sensitive subject like divorce.

I am proud of this one, not only because I wrote it for someone special, but because I know it works.  I saw it firsthand.  Sadly, of all my published plays, it is the only one that has never received a production (since the first one I had before it was published).  I don't really understand why not.  A playwright pal of mine told me he didn't like the title, but, who knows?  I'm hoping it will find some productions some days, as I do think it is a play of some good merit, funny, and, touching.  And I know for a fact, because I witnessed it, that kids absolutely LOVE it.

So, if you're looking for a sweet, funny one-act for kids, feel free to check out Sky Baby and the Bedtime Story.  You can find it by clicking here:  http://www.brookpub.com/default.aspx?pg=sd&st=SKY+BABY+AND+THE+BEDTIME+STORY&p=1880

Thank you for checking out Theater is a Sport today.  If you would like to become its fan on facebook, you can just follow this link:  https://www.facebook.com/#!/TheaterIsASport

I'll see you tomorrow.  Until then, I'm Bobby Keniston, assuring you of this one thing:  theater is not only a craft and an artform, but is also a sport.

HOW TO WRITE A PLAY or HOW TO ENJOY REPEATEDLY BANGING YOUR HEAD AGAINST THE WALL, Lesson 2: Let's Write a Monologue!

Greetings, my theater friends!  Welcome to Theater is a Sport.  It's Tuesday, so you know what that means... it's playwriting tutorial day!  Or, as I like to call it:  How To Write a Play or How to Enjoy Repeatedly Banging Your Head Against the Wall.  Again, it's not really as bad as all that.  In fact, beating your head against the wall over and over again can be a beautiful thing!  

Today we are going to focus on writing a monologue.  I'm going to assume that you all read some plays over the week since our first lesson, and have also been checking out the structure of your favorite TV shows.  And while we will be discussing dramatic structure a great deal on this blog, we are going to focus today on how it all comes together in the creation of a monologue.

First off--- what is a monologue?  A monologue is a long speech given by a character in a play, sometimes to other characters onstage, sometimes directly to the audience.  A soliloquy is another example of a long speech, though usually given by an actor alone onstage.

For the purpose of our exercise, we are going to be writing monologues for a single character, and our monologues are going to be complete pieces in of themselves, with a beginning, middle, and end.  Yes, a monologue can be a play all by itself. 

How do we write a monologue?  Well, first, you need to remember that all drama is about conflict.  When you have a single character, the conflict is within the character herself, or perhaps the character and some external limitation. 

Let's look at an example, shall we?   And if we're going to look at an example of a great monologue, let's look at a great example from one of my playwrights, Anton Chekhov.   Here is a link where you can read his monologue (which is its own play) called "On the Harmful Effects of Tobacco":  http://method.vtheatre.net/doc/tobacco.html

(Note:  This piece is in the public domain, and this is the only place I could find the full text online.  Aside from a few spelling errors, it is pretty close to the versions I'm familiar with.)

Now, I'm not expecting you to read this first and then come back and read the rest of my blog, but, if you do not, you will have to be ready for some spoilers coming. 

The reason I like to use this monologue as an example for writing monologues is, other than being quite funny, it is an excellent example of conflict.  Our character, Nykhin, informs us he is going to give us a lecture on the harmful effects of tobacco.  However, the monologue is not about tobacco at all, is it?  We learn quickly that our lecturer is prone to digressions, and the very digressions are what make up the bulk of the monologue.  Hence, we have some conflict already:  we are told we are going to hear a lecture on tobacco, but what we really hear is our lecturer share his comically sad existence with us, ultimately purging himself, until the very end, when he entreats us to tell his wife he gave a very fine lecture on tobacco. 

Certainly, one does not need to mimic Chekhov in tone or subject when writing a monologue.  But there are lessons one can take from this piece when writing their own.  Here are some examples:

1.  Character:  right away from the first stage directions ("worn-out flock coat", "bows majestically to the audience"), we as an audience get an idea of who this guy is.   The spoken text that follows takes us on a journey with him.

2.  The Dramatic Arc:  Nyukhin tells us he is going to lecture on the harmfulness of tobacco even though "I myself smoke, but my wife told me to lecture on the harmful effects of tobacco, so what's to be done?"  In that small line in the beginning, we get the first indication that our lecturer might possibly be a bit hen-pecked.  As he continues with his lecture, and things seem to be moving in the right direction... "When I lecture I blink my right eye.  Take no notice.  It is simple nervousness.  I am a nervous man".  This digression gives the author permission to go into WHY he is a nervous man, and thus, the rest of the story builds... the boarding home, his daughters, his wife's nest egg, etc.  So this action continues to rise, with the character purging himself, until, near the end, we learn he is a broken man with broken dreams, who longs only for "peace".  Of course, Chekhov ends the piece with the Lecturer becoming aware his wife is looking at him from backstage, so he hastily concludes with a last remark about the harmful effects of tobacco.
This trajectory is very effective for a monologue.  We meet a character, get an initial first impression, the character reveals more about themselves and their life, the focus changes, grows to a climax and then... we are back  to the beginning, knowing our character will never change. 

3.  Stakes:  stakes are tremendously important in any dramatic writing, especially a monologue.  In order for us to remain engaged by one person talking to us from stage, the stakes to rise and rise and rise.... (if you don't like the word "stakes", you can also think of it as "complications"). 

So, what I would like to give you for an assignment is this:  read through the Chekhov monologue, noticing some of the things I have talked about.  Then, I would like you to try writing your own monologue.  Make sure it is about something that is interesting to you.  It's fine to draw things from your own life, but I would suggest that as a jumping off point, and then letting you creativity take the stakes higher.  Your first monologue needn't be as long as the example I've given you:  you can have a good monologue with a beginning, middle and end in one or one and a half pages, even.  And think about this as your write:

1.  The character should reveal something about themselves that perhaps they are not even aware of themselves, and
2.  A goo way to create conflict is to have a character start out believing one thing, but by the end realize they have shifted to the exact opposite belief. 

If you would like to share your monologue with me (I can't promise an immediate response, but I will try to read them as quickly as possible), you can e-mail them to me at theater.is.a.sport@gmail.com 

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If you would like to read a sample of a monologue I wrote called "Falling (And Not Getting Up)", click here:  http://www.brookpub.com/default.aspx?pg=sd&st=FALLING+(AND+NOT+GETTING+UP)

Thank you for joining me today at Theater is a Sport.  I hope you enjoyed your second playwriting lesson!

To go directly to LESSON 3, simply click HERE

Until tomorrow, please remember:  theater is a sport (and, banging your head against the wall CAN be enjoyable)