I know there are more important matters to complain about than the weather, but...

I’m not specifically saying that Seattle weather is particularly bad this August, but…

I flipped my Sports Illustrated golf calendar at work over to September in prep for next Tuesday. The photo for the month is the 5th hole of the links course at Royal Portrush in Northern Ireland. It’s a beautiful green on the edge of the cliffs, the rough ocean waters behind it and a wall of clouds in the sky. No blue sky anywhere. Just grey.

Then I looked out my office window.

The similarity of my view of Seattle was uncanny.

A wall of clouds in the sky hanging over Lake Union.

August is supposed to be the good month. It's not suppossed to look like this...It's bad enough we get this crap all fall/winter/spring...


I don’t want to look at that picture for the whole month of September. At least next month I will be able to look at a sunny picture of a course in North Carolina.

I can’t go on, I must go on, I’ll go on

Outside the weather is crappy yet again.

I have to continually remind myself that there are regions in this world where summer is not over in mid-August…That the sun shines more than ten times a year…

It’s just not here in Seattle.

I’m feeling glum today for many reasons. Maybe one reason is that I'm still reading that biography on Samuel Beckett, The Last Modernist by Anthony Cronin. As biographies go, it's not bad, certainly not as exhaustive as Damned to Fame.

Beckett's outlook on life is quintessentially Irish. It is hope amidst suffering, optimistic but cynical…Beckett is a man who, when a friend said about a sunny day, “Isn’t it a beautiful day? Makes one glad to be alive…”, Beckett replied with...

“Well, I wouldn’t go so far as to say that…”

But the real reason is I just found out that someone at work has been diagnosed with cancer.

But as Erin (maybe now going as Eloise), one of my students at BCC so elegantly said…

“F**k cancer!”


Life is suffering, as the buddhists say, but life is worth living.

We can't go on, we must go on, we go on.

Rite of Passage

Today I am truly a golfer.

It SNOWED today while I was playing.

Okay, it didn't look like this picture. And actually it HAILED first for a bit, then stopped for a few minutes before the snow came down.

Then the sun came out.

Then it hailed again.

Then the sun came out only briefly.

And then it snowed.

And then it got really cold.

But I played my 18 hole round, regardless. And you know what? I played that course better than ever.

Thank you very much.

Beware the Ides of...April...

It is snowing.

Out the window.

Right now.

*(This is an actual photo from our window taken only fifteen minutes ago)

All I can say is...

"What the f--!?"

April truly is the cruelest month...All I want to do is play golf in the sun but the northwest weather is against me.

I don't want to complain, but...okay, I do like to complain. I come from a long heritage of grumpy people. My family can actually pass the time complaining about anything and everything, from bad drivers to bad tv (maybe its the Italian heritage, I don't know). In fact, I have thought that maybe I should devote a whole other blog just for my complaints...and I could call it "Grumpy Young Man". Then no one will have to read my complaints and I can stick to the purpose of the site instead of diverging into grumbling all the time.

Yay or nay?

If you're reading this, weigh in...We wanna know...

To show that I can still find the beauty in all things,





here is the wonderful rug I bought in India...


The dog is not from India...


I don't know where she came from...

Don't mind me...it's the jet lag talking

It’s 38 degrees and its snowing today.

Yes, snowing.

I took the bus to work this morning.

(Taking the bus means really that I took the bus and walked 25 minutes because it’s a better alternative, and faster, then having to take two busses because that takes me an hour to get to work, if not longer, and I am not a pleasant person after waiting for two different buses and hour commute for literally 6 miles of distance despite listening to my cool and/or relaxing music on my ipod).

Last week I was in 90 degree sunny weather in India wearing short sleeve shirts. Now here I am back in the Pacific Northwest wearing my raincoat and hoodie.

And I gotta say, it’s not just the weather that makes me feel like curling up in my bed and not going anywhere. It’s that in Seattle it is unpleasantly difficult to get anywhere. I’ve obviously already written many times of my loathing for drivers in this town that seem to think 30 mph means 20 mph. I’m sure everyone is tired of hearing about it (even I’m tired of hearing myself whine about it…)

But also, there’s the parking issue (what neighborhood in this town doesn’t complain about its lack of parking?) and there’s the alternative to driving, the mass transit.

Or should I say the utter and complete LACK of any useful mass transit.

Because the weather is really bad in NYC. It’s freezing in the winter and brutally unbearable in the summer. Yet, I was out and about a lot. And yes, the subway system isn’t perfect and yes, I was stranded on a subway platform many, many times.

But if I was on the train on the LIRR for an hour, I’d be at Jones beach. Which is a lot further than 6 miles away.

Maybe I'm just missing New York.

Maybe I’m just grumpy because of the jet lag.

Maybe it’s because its only Friday morning and I’m ready for the weekend.

Then again, maybe it’s the fact that here we are almost April and it’s SNOWING outside.

Yep. I think that’s it.

10 Things I Love About Seattle

Whenever I get impatient driving to work (which is often), or when the weather is gray (like today), I try to fight the spiral any negativity developing towards this city and think of things that I really love. It's my tactic for fighting the winter blues...

After yesterday’s post, I felt a little bad, like I was being nitpicky or making fun of someone who I am just getting to know. So here are my ten favorite things I came up with this morning. This list changes every day or so, depending on my moods and activities, but here it is for today.

10 Things I love about living in Seattle:

1) The scenery—mountains and mountains and Mt. Rainier oh my!
2) Fabulous salmon—I eat it for breakfast now. Seriously.
3) Great microbrews on tap (Mannys is my go-to beer)
4) You can get a great cup of joe anywhere, anytime
5) The fresh markets (not just Pike Place, but University, Ballard or Cap Hill)
6) They have many large, beautiful parks (and dog parks, too!). Green Lake is becoming a fave
7) The summer months (both of them!)
8) We have theater here. Three major regional theaters (the Rep, ACT, Intiman), two of which have one a Regional Tony Award. And a plentiful amount of small theaters, all doing various types of shows to meet anyone’s taste.
9) Some of the best golf courses around
10) Great live music, especially if you like alt-country, which I do. (I spend a lot of time at Conor Bryne…its so cozy and no-frills…)

As you notice, the top five have to do with food…I can’t help it. I like good food and most people who talk about what they love about Seattle talk about the restaurants and fresh seafood. And reasonably priced (we’re not talking Canlis here peeps). One of my fondest memories was last September sitting on the porch at Ray’s Boathouse as the sun was going down, enjoying a Salmon burger and a microbrew…ah, I miss the sunshine…

But there’s plenty of stuff to do here. We have more arts than just theater, too (like SAM, the sculpture garden, etc). And we’ve got nice bars, not just Conor Bryne, but others as well. Like across the street is Portalis, a lovely wine bar. And there’s the Hopvine in Cap Hill, the College Inn, the…oh, you get the idea.

And when I think of things, I feel good and my impatience fades away.

Until I have to drive home. Then I have to think of ten more things…

Seattle Freeze

It’s a phenomenon. It’s been written about. Sociologists like Dr. Jodi O'Brien at Seattle University are even studying it. If you're unsure of what it is, watch this documentary video at YouTube.

Yet if you ask someone from Seattle about it, they will react either in denial or shrug, saying, "we're just more reserved, that's all."

As someone from here told me, “You can have coffee with anyone.”

Yes. But dinner? A movie? Hanging out with someone on the weekend?

Not likely.

Don't get me wrong, and I'll probably piss someone off with this post (but you'll be too nice to actually tell me...). Seattle people are overly polite, cheerful and friendly. They let pedestrians walk across the street at any time (sometimes almost causing accidents in the process). And I have met some wonderful, open and good people here. I don't want to generalize every single person who lives here...

But...

I've lived in few major cities, and two minor ones, and although there are great things about Seattle, this cultural phenomenon has me baffled. Also, as the documentary points out, this idea of a closed off society as a growing trend in this country really scares me.

And how does that relate to theater?

Theater is a social art form. Theater demands connection between actor and audience. Theater allows us to cut through the bulls**t and find truth.

Ideally.

This is the major difference between theater and tv/film/internet. In order to enjoy theater, people have to get out of their house and join other people to watch actors talking not just to each other, but could also talk directly to the audience...Theater is inherently inter-active.

That's pretty cool. And its why theater has survived for thousands of years (thousands, people...) and will survive for thousands more.

Writers are prone to being anti-social. Not all of us, of course. But the job itself can be solitary. We sit at a keyboard, hear voices, talk to ourselves, getting lost in our world. It's a necessity for creation that can become the very thing getting in the way of interacting with the real world.

Novelists may have it the worst. Poets can do readings. Screenwriters get to schmooze at parties.

But playwrights...I think playwrights have it the best.

Because to me, part of the real fun of theater is the art of making theater. And that's why I love being in rehearsal.

If you don't love rehearsal, you should really get out of the theater. Even if you are a playwright. Seriously.

Theater people spend anywhere from two weeks to two months in rehearsal, for shows that may only run for a couple of weeks. It's our 9 to 5...The rehearsal room is our office.

Okay, its so not an office...which is another reason why I love it.

It's where we play.

That's what they're called, y'know,...plays...

My lovely wife is also a director and she refers to working together as "kicking around the sandbox". I love that. It brings up this image of childlike play, when you met that weird kid and made a castle and had dumptruck wars, or whatever.

I love working with actors and directors (and designers, too, when I have them). It's a communal thing. I want to know what they think and I hope they'll tell me, whether they think something is brillaint or crap. I never think that writing a play is finished when I "hand it off"--it's always in process. I loved doing 14/48 this past weekend because I love sitting in rehearsal. How can you not? I mean, actors are working their butt off on your show, directors are solving problems that you created. And its fun and engaging.

And the material we work on can be the impetus to real and deep conversations about meaningful things above the mundane--hopefully the things you're writing about. The human condition. Behavior. Us. Doesn't have to be "big" issues. (In fact, my play was about certain body parts not being big, which actually could be a big problem and is evidently not just a joke but a real thing that couples may have to deal with, but nobody really talks about...).

I guess what I'm saying is as a writer I've got anti-social tendencies anyway. I got into the theater and came out of my shell, embraced by this second family. But I feel, and maybe I'm noticing this because I spend more time writing plays than acting and directing, that often there isn't enough connecting going on between dramatists and the rest of the theater folks.

And this is not a Seattle problem. This is a national dilemma.

We need to get away from our keyboards and get involved. We should be sitting in rehearsal. Some of you might clamor, "it's so boring". Sure, you sit there watching other people work, sometimes feeling like an unnecessary element. But it's your play. You should be involved. You have that right. And you're not unnecessary. You're part part of the conversation that's happening, not just about how to do the play, but everything else the play is opening up...for you, the director, the actors, and then eventually the audience.

And if you don't have a show in rehearsal, then get out and volunteer with a theater company. Dramaturg something. Hand out programs. Direct. Audition. Meet other theater people, not just other writers.

Weatherman have it sooooo easy here...

Little known factoid of the day...

The rom-com Adam Sandler pic 50 First Dates, written by Pacific Northwest scribe George Wing, was originally set in the Puget Sound area. It’s seems perfect for a character who wakes up with no memory and every day is the same day for her. Because in Seattle, this could work. Every day could be grey overcast with temperaturas around 50 degrees. Or maybe there’s some sunshine. But mostly its gray overcast.

I recently thought about writing a movie about Seattle with Seattle characters, but I can’t get past the gloominess and all I’ve got are depressing stories (with Chekhovian characters).

There’s a reason Adam Sandler moved the location from Seattle to Hawaii. For one, if you had the choice of shooting on location in Hawaii or Seattle, which place would you rather go to? Second, sunshine creates laughter much easier than rain. And third, no one wants to watch 90 minutes of grey. Especially for a pick me up feel-good movie.

Anyway, my rewriting is feeling a little slumped. I’ve pushed back the deadline slightly and will finish it on Saturday. I have some major work to do on the last 30 pages and then some tweaking. And then I’m calling it quits for awhile.

Check out this insightful video of the key moments and history of the WGA.

What the… ?!?

It’s been cloudy and/or rainy for over two weeks.

Two days ago it hailed.

Today its 70 degrees and sunny.

But don’t worry.

Forecast for tomorrow

Is rain.

And then rain the next day, etc., etc…

Days like this just make me think that any sunny day in Seattle outta be a forced holiday. Businesses should close. Schools should shut down. Everyone should be forced to picnic in the park or go boating or hiking or have a cocktail on the front porch.

Something.

(By the way, any academics or Lit majors want to guess why this particular monkey photo?)

Darkness Approaches

There is a new movie coming out called 30 Days of Night.

At first I thought it was about January in Seattle, but no, it’s about Vampires in Alaska. I guess there are worse places to live, especially if you’re not keen on those vicious blood-suckers.

I thought of this because this morning at 6:30 am I walked the dog in pitch black darkness. I started to remember last Spring when Lisa and I were looking at the calendar at when the sunrise would be back to 8:30 am or 7:30 am or even 7:00 am.

Hint: it’s a really, really long time.

After surviving the first winter in Seattle last year, I can now sympathize with those astronauts who orbited the moon, huddled in their little space capsule as they creeped over to the dark side, waiting to emerge to see the sun again and make contact with Houston.

Because it’s not that it rains so much here—in fact it doesn’t really “rain” at all here, which I’ll explain in a moment. It’s really the fact that it gets so dark in the winter. Going to work at 9 am in darkness and then leaving work at 5:00 pm in darkness really starts to get to you after doing it for weeks and weeks.

And during the day its mostly cloud cover, so it’s perpetually gray outside. All day long.

It’s a wonder so many people jump off the Aurora Bridge—look it up, its second in suicides only to the Golden Gate.

This is why I need to get one of those special sun lamps. Or take some “happy pills”.

As for the weather…

For those of you who don’t live in Seattle but would like to experience a typical day, please try this fun exercise.

Get a spray bottle.

Fill it with water.

Set the spray to “mist”.

Spray it above your head.

Repeat.

That’s what the weather is like today. It will be like that until December or so. Then it might snow. Then it will actually rain, the kind of rain that is recognizable as actual raindrops falling from the sky in force. Then it will go back to this mist. Then, sometime in May perhaps, we will see the sunshine again, peeking through the clouds.

On another note—I used to worry about my hair getting messy and looking all scruffy but not anymore. Now I just remember…I’m in Seattle. Everyone here has scraggly hair. Most men just tie it up in a scraggly pony tail and call it good. It matches their scraggly beards.

And I think to myself...somewhere in the world people actually care what they look like when they leave the house…

And there’s sunshine, even in the winter months.

I’d like to live in that place again some day.

Okay, so I know this blog has become a personal tirade and has steered off course from the original intent of musings on, well, the muse, so in the future I aim to stay away from the random diary entries about my mundane daily existence.

But the next few weeks I’m taking a break from all writing. It’s not that I’m blocked or giving up, just need a vacation to rest the mind. Also, I’m extremely busy at work and its sucking all my energy. On top of that, I’m organizing the Drama Guild Regional Meeting.

So I’ll see you in a few weeks.

Totally Gross

It’s yucky rainy outside—not quite sprinkling, not quite raining, just a spitting water in your face kind of nastiness. And the clouds are doing what they do best in Seattle--block any and all sunlight. I looked at the forecast and it says we have six more months of rain…no, seriously.

Time to get out the B vitamins and Selenium and ask my doctor about anti-depressants.

Yet, in spite of the weather and the thoughts of impending darkness for months and months, I will remain positive.

I do, however, have to mention one thing…Seattle is not as clean as it would like to believe.

WARNING: The following anecdote is gross and its about poop so if poop is not your thing, just stop reading now…I mean it.

Last Monday—a week ago—I got off the bus and walked down the steps for the underpass by Mercer, to go under Aurora Avenue. On the steps was a pile of human feces. Yes, poop. It must’ve been there at least since the night before and was probably delivered by one of the many homeless people who sleep in the lawn masquerading as a park across the street. I walked on and thought nothing of it…

Until Friday of last week when I got off the bus, headed down the steps of the underpass and saw it again. If you’ve never seen a pile of four day old human poop, it’s a sight to behold.

And then I forgot about it…

Until today.

When I got off the bus.

And it was STILL THERE.

It’s starting to get black like charcoal and shriveling, but its still a pile of human poop.

And I face a slight dilemma here because I’m thinking to myself, “who do I call?” Who’s job is it to clean up the poop? It must be someone’s job, right? And surely, I’m not the only person who has been witness to the defecation. And yet, it’s still there.

This is obviously a sign that Seattle does not do enough cleaning of its streets and sidewalks.

It’s bad enough I clean up my dog’s poop. But I draw the line at human poop. Humans should know better. There are other places more suitable for pooping. The next time one of those unfortunate souls asks for money, I’m going to slip the smelly guy a dollar and say, “Look, here’s a buck if you don’t poop on the steps anymore. Find a bush, for God’s sake.”

Okay, and now I promise not to write about poop in this blog for at least a month.

Super Duper!

So here’s the scoop.

If you read Variety on a regular basis, or you’re a total comic book geek, you might already know this but Warner Brothers studios is putting together a movie version of Justice League of America. Based on the DC comics, this group of superfriends are made up of Batman, Superman, Wonder Woman, Green Lantern, Aquaman, Flash and sometimes others like the Green Arrow. George Miller (director of Babe and Mad Max and most recently Happy Feet) has signed on to direct.

WB is on the fast track to make this movie because there are impending contracts about to run out—SAG and the WGA. What does that mean in movie business terms? It means there could be a whole lot of negotiations and a possible talent strike. When a talent strike happens, no movies get made. So all studios are ramping up projects in pre-production and pushing up production dates to get a whole lot of movies made and banked for the summer of 2009. They have to start making the movie before March to not be affected by the upcoming negotiations.

The JLA project is one of those movies.

Also, it seems that the two actors you’d think most likely to be in the movie, Christian Bale (Batman) and the other guy who played Superman in the movie, or even the guy who plays Superman on Smallville, are NOT signed on and will be unavailable for filming in February.

So a talent search is on and for some reason the casting call went out to Seattle. I got wind of it through a message board sight. The allure of the fact that it films in Sydney for three months, starting in February, made me send in my headshot just for the hell of it, knowing full well that I’m not really right for Superman or Batman, or any other superhero (barely young enough and definitely not in superhero shape). The casting director called me in anyway and I was glad to go because I have yet to audition for this person and want them to consider me for other projects.

They sent out four options of different sides to prepare. Now, the script for JLA has just been finished and is being kept under wraps. So the sides they gave me were for other movies. Not obscure movies. Very well known movies.

Good Will Hunting. Swingers. A Few Good Men.

Now, I really wanted to do the “You can’t handle the truth!” speech from A Few Good Men—I mean, it’s really fun to say—but I just couldn’t get Jack Nicholson out of my head, so opted for the Swingers scene. Besides, I’m more the Jon Favreau type anyway.

The casting office was located in Westlake, not too far from work. I decided to walk. Of course, by the time I walked over there, the drizzly cloudy day became a hot, sunny day and I was sweating up a storm by the time I arrived. I literally had to dry myself off in the bathroom. And of course, no one in Seattle ever has any thought to regulating room temperature so the offices were hot and humid and I just kept sweating. Eventually, I dried off before I walked into the room.

I met the two women who were running the auditions who were very full of energy (evidently they did the casting for Sleepless in Seattle, so they’ve been around awhile). I stood on my mark for the camera and told them my funny story. They laughed (a good sign). Then I did my audition. It went really well, actually. Mostly, I think any anxiety about it I had was dissipated by the fact that I was obviously not right for the part (I could tell by the listing that they want hot young 25 year old models who can barely form sentences). Afterwards they even commented on how well my transitions were from beat to beat.

I walked out of there feeling good and then walked down to the Seattle Rep to see a reading of a new play with Lisa.

Will I ever hear from the casting people again? We’ll see. Perhaps there will be a commercial or other film project in the future that is better suited for my talents.

Mamet Schmamet!

I splashed soapy water all over my pants and shirt in the kitchen while washing my coffee cup. It must be Monday…

But anyway…

It has been announced that my short play DOG PARK will be produced at Theater Schmeater, here in Seattle. It will run with three other plays “that could have been written by Mamet”concurrently with their production of David Mamet’s American Buffalo.

For the announcement go here.

What is most funny is their tagline for the play (which I did not get the privilege of making up):

“In Seattle's Magnuson Dog Park, Jake and Duke take a special interest in the young pup Tiger, trying to get him to mate with Bambi, the poodle.”

By the way, I used the name Duke in honor of my sister and brother-in-law who recently lost a dog with that name. May he romp in doggy heaven.

If you are familiar with Mamet, you may enjoy this spoof movie trailer. If you don't know Mamet, beware--he uses the F**K word...a lot...

And now back to your regularly scheduled Monday. I have to dry my pants.

The image above is courtesy of Zach Trenhol from the Theater Schmeater website

Sunshine at last!

Hurray! Hoorah!

The sun is back out to play!

Forecast is 76 and partly cloudy (which is about as sunny as it gets here, really).

This picture was not taken today but you get the idea.

In other exciting news...Lisa and I are seeing a play tonight, a devised piece over in Ballard. More to come...

Cheers!

What Light

If you feel like singing a song
And you want other people to sing along
Then just sing what you feel
Don’t let anyone say it’s wrong

Those lyrics are from WILCO’s song “What Light”, one of the many songs they did as an encore, including some of my favs off the Mermaid Avenue albums, like “California Stars” and “Airline to Heaven”. The Seattle crowd is very alt-country so they definitely catered to that crowd (as opposed to the Irving Plaza show in NYC we saw them at—very different vibe).

All in all, the concert was a blast. We got there super early thanks to no traffic on the 520, but we had a nice little Subway sandwich in our beach chairs, under a partly cloudy sky blue sky, had some beers, hung out, and people watched. I found it fun to count the beards (What is it with northwest guys and beards? All I saw was beards and plaid shirts everywhere…).

They opened with “Sunken Treasure” and then played a lot of songs off the new album, as well as off Ghost and YHF. And although the couple behind us screamed like wookies for “Heavy Metal Drummer” (the pregnant lady can really belt high-pitched shrieks, I tell ya), they never played it…but ended with a rocking version of “Kidsmoke”.

I realized another sign that I’m getting old. In high school concerts were IT. They were the event. You waited for it for months, told friends about going, or how you couldn’t get tickets (or your mom wouldn’t drive you), and then you finally get to the concert and its this excuse to get drunk and stoned and have the best time of your life.

Well, I’m not a teen-ager anymore…so we sat on the grassy hill a little ways from the stage, drank only a few beers, and enjoyed it like civilized adults. It was good to know we weren’t alone, though. And there were even some college kids and high schoolers sitting down right nearby. Smoking pot, of course. But still…

And then I had a sobering thought related to screenwriting…the WGA usually registers an average of 5,000 new scripts every year.

5,000.

That’s how many people were at the concert last night. If you’ve never imagined the amount of people your work is competing against before, just try to picture 5,000 people at a concert. Imagine each one wrote a screenplay (and I’m sure at least 100 of them have, or have tried). It makes you want to make sure your script is really good in order to stick out.

Because out of those 5,000 scripts, only about 10% get bought or optioned and then only 5% get produced. Actually, those estimates are probably high. Must be the optimist in me.

Forecast is partly cloudy today. Again. I think I saw the sun peek through the clouds so there’s some hope there.

And remember:

If you’re trying to paint a picture
But you’re not sure what colors belong
Just paint what you see
Don’t let anyone say it’s wrong

Let the Sunshine In...Please, dear God...Sunshine!

To the right you'll see the world's smallest violin playing for me because I'm about to whine a little...

CUE VIOLIN MUSIC

I don’t mind when it rains. I live in Seattle. It’s supposed to rain.

In fact, sometimes there’s nothing nicer than a rainy day…You can drink some coffee, read a book, do some writing, go see a movie…it can be calming, even. I’ll even play golf in the rain, like I did on Sunday.

But I must say last winter was a hard winter. It wasn’t just the rain but the lack of sunlight on top of it. I’m not looking forward to the next winter. People up here are heartier than me, I think, and more used to it. I grew up in a desert.

Last week we had some really nice weather (Partly cloudy with some sunshine in the 60s to 70s). We romped the town with Lisa’s mom and step-dad. Lotta fun. But now it’s been raining for three days. First day of rain it was nice to have a break from the sun. Second day was okay. But now the third day the clouds have outworn their welcome. I’m ready for some sunshine. This is August. It’s supposed to be summer.

Also, we’re going out to Marymoor park for the WILCO concert later today. It’s outdoors on the grass. We even bought little beach chairs last night at Target.

My mom told me that in Reno they’re having like their thirtieth day without rain…now that may be too much sunshine, but it still made me a little envious.

I’m trying to think of analogy for the rain…and creativity or writing or something…like comparing the rain to inspiration or “when the well runs dry” blah blah blah…but honestly nothing is coming to mind…maybe my well really has run dry.

Seattlities have as many names for rain as the Eskimos have for snow. Seriously.

Everybody Blogs

Here's two thoughts for the price of one:

The first: I was driving to work this morning and even though it really should only take me fifteen minutes driving at the speed limit, it usually takes me twenty to twenty-five minutes. Everyone complains about the traffic in Seattle, but the truth is its not because there are a lot of cars like say L.A. or New York. It’s because most drivers in Seattle will absolutely refuse to drive anywhere near the speed limit. If the speed limit is 30 mph, you’re lucky to be going 25. If its 25, you’re probably almost stopped.

As someone who spent a lot of time driving on tour and weaving in and out of Manhattan traffic—this drives me crazy (pun intended). By nature, I am a “let’s get things done” kind of guy. It’s not that I can’t enjoy the journey, it’s just that I really do want to arrive at my destination.

Now, I know there is a lesson in this. I know that as a creative person I want to rush the process. I have about ten projects in my head I want to sit down and write tonight. And I know that life is too short to dawdle. I’m so anxious to get things done that I forget that sometimes things just have to take their own time. It’s part of the process. This doesn’t mean don’t do anything (ie sitting back waiting for the Muse to strike) but it does mean being patient. Art is about persistence.

My second thought of the day comes from this interview with John August I read on someone else’s blog. Most people don’t know him, but he’s the guy who wrote GO, Corpse Bride, one of the Charlies Angel’s movies, and one of my favorites, Big Fish. He has a great site for screenwriters with “tons of useful information” at johnaugust.com. In this excerpt of this interview he talks about writing and how damn hard it is and that just because you have a blog doesn’t mean you’re writing (which means I shouldn’t just post any old tidbit that comes to my head, I guess).

“JA: I really don't like writing. That's a terrible thing to say of course, because one is supposed to love one's art. But I'd rather do just about anything than sit down and start writing.

The thing is, I love having written. I love going back and looking at the scene I wrote. So "writing" is a necessary, painful process I go through in order to get to "having written."

When people say, "Oh, I just loving writing!" I know they're full of crap. They're probably lousy writers who are regurgitating their daily thoughts in a journal. Actual writing is hard work. Even when you have the flow and it's going well, it's still incredibly taxing. My deepest nights of sleep are after days of having to write ten pages.

(By the way, this -- answering questions for an email interview -- isn't writing. This is talking with a keyboard, which is damn near effortless. I think one of the dangerous things that's come with the rise of the Internet is that people are confusing typing with writing. Just because your words are captured in a UTF-8 character set doesn't mean that you're actually writing. Writing involves carefully shaping a thought for its desired impact. Writing means anticipating the reader's reaction, and honoring (or defeating) that expectation. Writing requires logic. Blogging just requires an account.) “

Summer is here!

Last night Lisa and I went to see the Quickies Festival at LiveGirls! Theatre, a great evening of short new works, all by women playwrights. I wrote about it for The Dramatist, which will run next month (See below for the full column). I'm always encouraged and inspiried when I see an evening of brand spanking new plays. Even if the plays aren't brilliant or particularly spectacular, its always good to see playwrights at work. And these plays were of a consistent quality--some more than others--and it also helps that the acting and the directing were top-notch. I'll be looking forward to seeing more shows there this season.


Below is what will run in The Dramatist magazine next month:

I’ve lived here just long enough to know that when the sun pokes its shiny head out of the clouds even for a nanosecond, Seattleites don shorts and sandals and head to Green Lake or Gasworks Park for some fun in the sun. So when summer days get longer and warmer and the sunlight gets so soft it’s reminiscent of the Mediterranean, everyone rushes outside to enjoy it.

Well, not everyone.

We have no shortage of theatre-loving fools who willingly stay indoors to do theatre.

What we do have a shortage of in the summer is play festivals. Unlike New York City, which seems to have a new summer play festival pop up every year, in Seattle they’re few and far between. With much dismay, the Seattle Fringe Festival closed up shop a few years ago and has yet to be revived, despite a lot of talk and desire to see it running again. But some wounds may need to heal first (and from what I hear, some people still need to get paid). Theatre Schmeater valiantly tried to mount Open Stage as a slimmed-down version of the festival, hoping to attract those companies already going to the Vancouver Fringe Festival, but unfortunately they received only half the applications they needed to make it happen.

There are those who feel it’s best to just let the Fringe Festival rest in peace, claiming that it was rife with shoddy productions. But even though the quality of the festival may have been inconsistent, we lost a critical venue for dramatists. It was a wonderful sandbox to play in, to develop new works, experiment with new forms, take some risks, and most importantly, an opportunity to interact with the theatrical community. I was excited to hear about the festival when moving here, only to become disappointed when I looked up the website to find it nonexistent. I’ll gladly buy a round of drinks for the theatre company that revives it. I know it’s not much of an incentive, but I hope somebody takes me up on it.

Just because the Fringe Festival isn’t around anymore doesn’t mean theatres are completely empty. There’s one festival that’s still going strong after eight years, the Quickies festival at LiveGirls! Dedicated to producing and developing new work by women since 1999, LiveGirls! premieres plays by national and local playwrights and continues to create workshops and readings to support script development. Meghan Arnette, Artistic Director of LiveGirls! calls the “short and sassy” festival an excellent and exciting showcase for short plays from dramatists not just in the Pacific Northwest but all over the country. It’s a yearly trademark for the Ballard-based theatre company and kicks off their season.

Aside from festivals, there are a few world premieres from the big houses this summer. It’s a busy year for Craig Lucas. Not only did he adapt Chekhov’s Uncle Vanya for Intiman, but that theater will also premiere his new play Prayer for My Enemy, directed by Bartlett Sher (their third-time collaboration). No doubt the next stop will be Broadway. And you can get your dose of prime poetry in action with the premiere of First Class at ACT—A Contemporary Theatre. This one person show about the legendary poet (and UW professor) Theodore Roethke is written by renowned local poet David Wagoner and stars Seattle actor John Aylward.

When you run out of Saturday BBQs, venture down to the Jewel Box theatre nestled in the Rendezvous Bar in Belltown for the Seattle Dramatists Open Box. The first six playwrights that sign up get ten minutes of material read by professional actors. The time limit doesn’t deter commitment to longer works; Kelleen Conway Blanchard wrote Small Town by bringing in each scene, ten minutes at a time. The real bonus is you can grab a microbrew from the bar and soak in some drama instead of sunshine.

Speaking of brews, I hope next summer I’ll be giving a toast to the saviors of the Seattle Fringe Festival.

Cheers!