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Buy my plays and I go to FRINGE!

So today I entered my BYOV (Bring Your Own Venue) form, for my solo show It Started with an Allergy, into the Edmonton Fringe.

SO: from here on, all the proceeds from the online sales of my plays will go directly to putting on Allergy.
HERE is Crushed, which has now been produced in Edmonton and Fredericton in Canada, as well as in Florida, and soon Kingston-upon-Thames, UK. It has sold 40 copies to date (I’m told that’s unheard of for a less-known play in the great sea of the internet!) My goal is at least 50. Reviews here.

And HERE is Take a Bite, veteran of the Edinburgh Festival Fringe, nominated for Best New Play of 2012 by the Calgary Critics Association. Chew on the reviews here.

I’ve also got a fancy-pants DONATE button on my new FRINGE 2015 page, just because.

Yes, despite the winter, August is COMING…

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“So you want to be a writer?”

For various reasons, I haven’t been writing lately. I have a new(ish) day job, which I go in to early and sometimes stay late at…and occasionally, it’s going into the weekends. I’m enjoying it. It’s a lot of responsibility, and at 39, I’m beginning to feel like an… adult. I’ve rearranged a number of other things in my life, and that’s making me feel more adult as well (Note: NOT “grownup”). I have been genuinely busy, and when I get home, I’m content to have dinner and do laundry and go to bed. All of this has kept me off Twitter, and the web…and from going to shows recently. And…I’m finding I don’t miss any of those things.

Yet I’m also feeling very cut off.

I’ve signed up for the upcoming Playwrights Circle myself, to work on The Ugly Princess, and I’m entering Marathon/Sprint (from Skirts Afire last year) into the Act One program of APN. It seems odd to me that I feel I need to force myself to make time to write – after all, if I need to do that, maybe I don’t want to. I do want to, however, but I had another scary moment this week…the thought entered my head: “what’s the point?”

My wonderful Take a Bite director Amy had agreed to direct The Ugly Princess at the Edmonton Fringe this year…should we get in, which we didn’t. I (briefly) entertained the idea of doing a BYOV anyway – which I swore I would never do again – because the idea of going a year without a show was galling. But in the end it just didn’t pan out. I think “what’s the point?” snowballed from “not enough audience cares for what you write – no one is interested in doing your shows themselves…if people aren’t interested in what you do… you can’t force them.”

I convinced myself I don’t have time to write just now anyway – which I don’t. But it makes me feel hollow that I don’t. Even if no one watches, even if no one else wants to produce my work…I still have ideas and I still want to write them.

Right before I left for Scotland ten (yikes) years ago, I ran across a book of Charles Bukowski’s poetry, Sifting Through the Madness for the Word the Line the Way. The very first poem was titled: “So you want to be a writer?” It was harsh. And honest. Even though I was leaving the country with only a backpack, I spent $40 on that book and brought it with me for that one poem. The basic idea I got from it was: “will you do it anyway? If no one listens, if you’re never published, if you die with this never being heard, will you write anyway?”

Yes. So, I am still a writer. Just writing that makes me feel a bit less hollow.

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There is never enough money…part 1

Yeah. A two parter. After dwelling on this for a while, I think this issue is too big to swallow in one go.

I’ve said before that I don’t personally know anyone making their living solely in theatre…and yet, by all the measurements of anyone outside of theatre, they should be. If you get a professional production — not at a festival, but in a theatre — if you’ve won awards, if your plays have been published, then you’re obviously doing really well for yourself, right? I cringe when I hear people say that.

Fact: almost no playwright, even one who gets regular productions, recognition or publication, earns enough to live on just by writing. I think most people would agree, that STINKS.  I want to tell people who say this, and genuinely believe it, that Take a Bite took me five years to write. It’s been said that the audience doesn’t care how long it took you to write something — nor should they. I’ve also written a play over a weekend which was picked for NextFest in 2000. I was pondering Marathon/Sprint for months beforehand, but when it finally came out, that first draft took 10 days. You can never tell how long it’s going to take, and if you don’t have a producer giving you a deadline, you have to set your own — which inevitably gets pushed back because you also have a job. The personal return on investment in writing a play — if you look at it that way — is near zero. Or you could look at writing a play from scratch as a jumping off point. Unfortunately, I’m still looking for that “jumping off point” : it galls me to admit that nothing I’ve ever written has resulted in further work. I write a show, either nothing happens with it at all, or I produce it myself, and then I have to try writing something else. 

One might speculate: “well, the reason you’re not getting paid for your work is because you’re not very good.” (Not true.) Years ago…so long ago that the artistic director has long since left and the theatre has changed its name…I got a very nice rejection letter, for a play which I’d received a grant to write, and which had been workshopped with an established director and actors. It was really, really good, and this letter said so. The AD had quite clearly read the script thoroughly, and loved it. And the letter ended with an assurance that if ever they could produce it in future, they certainly would. So. Why didn’t they?

Why don’t even apparently successful writers make enough to just write? How come so few writers even make it that far if they ARE good? 

For one thing, there’s always far too little money to start with. Arts funding is the first thing to be cut when governments tighten their budgets, because it’s not something we obviously need to live. So theatres only have so much money to pay anyone who keeps the building running, let alone the artists who will actually put the show on…or write it. Theatres have to be very, very choosy in what they do. There have been some genuinely fantastic new plays done in Edmonton the last few years…and because I’m playwright, and know the playwrights myself, I know those scripts took years to get that good. Because that’s how long a great play takes. And then a theatre needs to have the time and money to do that great play. Alberta is certainly better off than a lot of places, but there’s still only so much sponsorship people can offer. And there’s only so much you can charge for tickets — otherwise audiences will say “I can stay warm at home and watch YouTube.”

And THAT is where we all need to take a break before part 2…