And maybe someday I can get mine to be as lusciously curly as hers is.
Of course, mine will be a solid grey by then. But I’m working on it.
(That’s Lenora Crichlow from the UK Being Human.)
Welcome to Diane Patterson's eclectic blog about what strikes her fancy
Posted on Written by Diane
And maybe someday I can get mine to be as lusciously curly as hers is.
Of course, mine will be a solid grey by then. But I’m working on it.
(That’s Lenora Crichlow from the UK Being Human.)
Posted on Written by Diane
Earl T. Roske is the most successful playwright I know of. I met him in Carol Wolf’s Playwriting class at Foothill College (unfortunately killed due to budget cuts; thanks for your support of the arts, state of California), and he was a little different than the rest of us: to begin with, he was a truck driver named Earl. Trust me, that stood out. Earl’s plays get produced all the time, all over the world, and he’s extremely prolific. (Although…according to one of the answers he gives here, not as prolific as I thought. Seriously, I thought he’d written hundreds of plays now. Image is everything, I guess.) Earl’s play “The Measure of a Man” was also in this year’s Eight Tens at Eight Festival in Santa Cruz (and is not only listed after mine, but was staged right after mine as well).
So I asked him to answer a few questions about how he got started in playwriting.
§
Did you really start writing plays in Carol’s class, or did you do it before that?
I wrote a play, once, when I was in second grade. It was about three pumpkins on a fence before Halloween. That’s all I remember about it and it never got performed. My hiatus lasted until I took the playwright class with Carol Wolf.
My fifth grade play was about the Hope Diamond. It did get performed but nobody had any idea what the Hope Diamond was, so it wasn’t a successful production. Did you do a lot of other types of writing before you started writing plays?
I did. I wrote short stories infrequently and a rough draft of a rough novel.
Why did you decide to start writing plays?
So the first assignment was to write a three page play. I brought it that next week to class and I was terrified that people were going to laugh at me and tell me what a horrible piece of garbage it was. It wouldn’t have mattered. Just seeing people standing up and reading my words, reacting to them as they read was instantly addicting.
How did you decide to start sending them out? Lots of people took Carol’s class and never sent their stuff out.
This was Carol’s fault. I had one short play and she said I should send it to Santa Cruz Actors’ Theatre’s Eight Tens @ Eight competition. If she hadn’t I probably wouldn’t have and that might have been the end of it. But, the play got accepted and I was like, “Wow! Where else can I send plays to?” So I began looking for places.
Where did you find the places to keep sending them?
I started on the internet. I use Yahoo! because I have a sentimental streak. And just type “ten-minute play submissions.” Then I started clicking through the results and found places that way. I joined the Chicago Playwright Center (www.pwcenter.org @ $60/year) because they have a “playwright opportunities” posting site where places looking for plays post their openings. I purchased a book, A More Perfect Ten, by Gary Garrison, which has about a dozen opportunities in the back. Also, the Dramatists Guild Resource Directory lists opportunities. And lately I’ve been watching a form En Avant Plawrights (http://enavantplaywrights.yuku.com/) Where opportunities are also listed.
You’re 4 for 4 (I think?) with the Santa Cruz Actors’ Theater 8 10s at 8 Festival, and your play “The Fruits of War” has been performed on 6 continents. I assume you’ve had other plays performed in various venues. What makes your plays so awesome in terms of getting produced?
6 continents? You flatter me. But, three continents, 5 countries.
Dammit. Really thought you had the 6 continent thing going.
No other play has been [as] successful [as The Fruits of War]. But most of them have gone on to have several productions. I don’t know for sure, but I think that it may be a simplicity of set requirements in most cases and a universal appeal. Most of these plays don’t take place in a specific place but they touch on values and ideals that exist around the world and the directors and actors can put their local touch on the play. For The Fruits of War, although it’s always the same script, it is seen very differently in Brisbane, Australia compared to Chennai, India to Oakland, California.
How do you go about writing your plays? I assume like most of us you get your inspiration from that small “Writers’ Ideas” store in Madison, WI. How long does it take you? Yes, it’s the horrifying “Your writing process” question.
Depends on the play. In every case except for the first play I spent a lot of time thinking about the idea of the play, what it is that I’m feeling and what it is I’m trying to say. And I try to think of a way to say it that might give it a twist. The Fruits of War is about the stupidity of retaliating against an enemy because they retaliated against you. The concept would pass as a farce if so many lives didn’t pay the cost.
So how do I make people see it differently. Then I write. The Fruits of War was written in a week of mornings as I sat in the truck I used to drive. I wrote furiously until it was time to drive. Then I typed it up and took it to class. I got feed back, rewrote, got feedback, sent it to Short + Sweet and the rest is, well, interesting.So ideas come from everywhere. I listen and allow myself to react to what I hear and read. Then I ponder and sometimes it’s short and sometimes I may ponder on an idea for a year or more. Oh, and I often try to write more than I need since it’s easier – my opinion – to edit out rather than to fluff it up.
I always find the plays that I write the fastest tend to get the best reception. Does it work that way for you, or do you rewrite a lot?
Mostly, yes, I agree. I think that’s because those plays are coming straight through from the sub-conscious straight to the fingers. But bad plays happen like that, too. The real trick is to be willing to abandon the play/idea when it turns out to be a dud. On my computer I have 30 files for 30 plays. I’ve only have 9 ten-minute plays that have been produced. Half those files hold stinkers that I may never work on again. There isn’t any reason to go back when there are new ideas already percolating in front of me.
What about for sending them out? Do you keep a schedule or a checklist? Like, “I must send out 5 plays per month…”
I keep a submission record for each play in the file with the play. I keep track of when I sent the play, to whom I sent it, and when the production is. Most places don’t tell you you’ve been rejected. So when I go through the file and see a date has passed I know the play has been rejected. You should also not be afraid of submitting to multiple places at once. Everyone wants an unproduced play. I figure that if I hit the jackpot and two or more accept the play at the same time, the table are reversed and it is I, the playwright, that gets to do some rejecting.
Best thing about writing plays?
Seeing the play on the stage. Knowing that I am part of a creative process that includes other people who are compelled by what I’ve written to bring it to the stage and in turn affect an audience. (Or should that be infect an audience? Hm.)
Worst?
A constant fear that I’m going to run out of ideas. It’s a constant fear that eats at me while I am hastily writing down yet another idea for a play that I won’t be able to get to for a year or more because of the dozen other ideas I’ve already committed myself to.
You’ve clearly done well with your 10-minute plays. Are you going to move into one-act or full-length plays? Or is it simply easier to get produced writing 10-minute plays?
I’ve written three full-length plays and they have gotten progressively less awful. What’s nice about ten-minute plays is that you have a greater chance of getting produced. (In Short + Sweet Sydney they produce over a hundred plays in a five week period. That would never happen with full-length plays.) There’s not much call for one-acts that I can see. I’ve written a couple and they haven’t been produced. But I do submit them when I can. Also, consider my production resume – which theatres ask to see when you submit a full-length play. I have 9 plays and 30+ productions. That looks good and I hope will improve my chances of getting a longer look when my play lands on some artistic director’s desk.
Every screenwriter in Hollywood was first a playwright. (Seriously. First thing out of their mouths.) Any plans to start screenwriting?
As an evolution of writing I think that would be a step after I have had a full-length play produced somewhere. It’s a different mindset as I look at it. With a screenplay you can literally be in Paris and then in Moscow in moments and jump back again. You can have characters with one line and are never seen again. Frugality does not seem to be a watchword for screenplays. And the formatting is different and the guardians of the gates are different. But, yes, I’d like to try to write a couple screenplays to see how that feels.
On a scale from 1 to 10, how useful is “I’m the playwright” as a pickup line?
I’m married so I don’t have to worry about it. But, I think when it comes to being in the theatre world, in small theatre, to say – and of course casually, as if almost by accident – “I’m the playwright,” will indeed get you attention. I’ve been taken out for coffee and inundated with questions. I will say this, though: if my play was the worst one of the night, I’d keep my mouth shut.
So…has this happened to you yet?
No, it hasn’t happened to me. I have had directors come and tell me that the actors are scared/nervous once they find out the playwright is in the theatre. That makes me wonder what kind of playwrights they’ve dealt with before. I’ve been fortunate so far.Oh, in one of the Short + Sweet festivals my play did get the lowest votes by the audience. But I wasn’t there.
Posted on Written by Diane
I love Matt Damon. Not in a “Hope we get trapped in an elevator together” kind of way — more in a “Gosh, I’d love to buy him a cup of coffee and talk to him for a while” way.
(In fact, I had a discussion with a friend that I can’t even remember the last time I found an actor so attractive I’d like to get trapped in an elevator with him. Hers: Alexander Skarsgard.)
I think the first time I discovered Matt Damon was the most interesting guy on screen was in Dogma, when he and Ben Affleck were so much more interesting than the crap going on around them* that I decided that they were in a different, better movie, one I wanted to see (a whole hell of a lot more than I wanted to sit through any more of Dogma). I love the Bourne movies to pieces. I even liked The Brothers Grimm, which is a textbook case of taking an interesting screenplay and knifing it through the heart.
But the movie that sealed the deal for me in terms of “a Matt Damon movie is practically an auto-buy for me” was Ocean’s 12. Did you see this? Don’t. It’s a completely terrible movie. I’m amazed reading my own review of it, because as time has gone by, all I can remember is how much of a paycheck deal this was for everyone involved. But Matt Damon totally showed up in Ocean’s 12. Everyone else is reading their lines off of cue cards and Damon is selling his part, unbelievably horrible plot and all.
Here’s the tricky thing about the “Matt Damon” character: his shtick is that he is a regular guy. He’s not pretty like Pitt and Clooney, he’s not flashy like Tom Cruise. Damon is never going to play the psychopathic serial killer on Dexter. Given my general rule about Hollywood actors (that they’re always hiding a big secret), I’m pretty sure that Damon’s regular guy persona means he is a serial killer in real life. You know. It happens.
So. Matt Damon. Love him. Even in really middle of the road family flicks like We Bought A Zoo.
You know everything you need to know from the title of this movie. Guy’s wife died, his children are really lost and aimless, guy decides to buy a house out in the country, which turns out to have a run-down zoo attached to it. Guy decides to save the zoo, discovers he was also lost and aimless but now has a purpose. Of course, he might lose everything as a result of trying to save a run-down, crappy zoo. Tell me: how do you think this movie turns out?
The most annoying thing about this movie is that it has bad language in order to win the coveted PG rating. The rest of the movie is totally a G.
Thomas Haden Church plays Damon’s brother and he is completely frickin’ hilarious. He has maybe 5 minutes on-screen and he’s hilarious in all of them.
Also in the movie: the most charming 7 or 8 year old actress ever, Scarlett Johanssen (fully clothed, sorry guys), and Angus Macfadyen being a loud, drunken Scot. (But I repeat myself.)
Anyhow, if you’re looking for a halfway decent (albeit predictable and non-earthshattering) family flick, We Bought A Zoo is pretty cute.
*You’d think that Dogma would have taught me to avoid Kevin Smith. But no. I’ve seen a couple since then. And now I have totally sworn off seeing movies Smith may have also viewed, let alone directed.