Thursday, April 29, 2004

Revise, Rewrite, Recycle

The play stands at thirty pages, so at forty it's sure to tarantella.

Whenever I start an entry I think of all the things I should be doing instead. I should go for a walk, water the plants, pet the cat, eat, drink, and be merry. And revise, revise, REVISE. For most of my literate (not literary) life, I did not believe in rewriting. Mostly because I was writing school essays, busy work that didn't matter. From pen to paper to trash can and that was that. But somewhere along the way, I discovered the magic and the mystery of Changing My Mind. And "finding a better way to convey the thing I was attempting to get across in the first place." So here I am, faced with tidying up the dialogue and building bridges between scenes. And because I'm lazy (I lack focus, direction, and trust fund), I'm thinking of resurrecting the idea of a Deus Ex Machina. Only instead of a god's timely save, I'll use bridges - Lloyd or Jeff or Beau. Instead of a denouement one of them will come out on stage and say, "Heya! I'm one of the Bridges, let's fix this fucking mess of a play!" And he'll do his thing and the curtain will come down and everyone will go home a better person. The end.

Today I sent out a couple query e-mails about submission guidelines. Specifically for theaters in the 48 contiguous United States. My standards aren't high.

Dinner's in the oven. Cat's on top of the monitor. Diet Dr. Pepper's in the refrigerator. And my new REI jacket is in the closet. Life is good.

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