Why write a play? Good question

As mentioned in my previous post in which I shared the very embryonic beginnings of my new play, it's been a while since I embarked upon a completely new project. This particular subject is a departure from previous main-stream play topics and has caught my imagination so for this reason alone, there's hope that it will evolve into a full and more importantly, finished, play. Frequently - all too frequently - things will move along at a rapid pace only to slow down at the quarter or half-way point, followed by a complete lack of progress. Why? Who knows. Anyway...

Write, kvetch and complain - it's a constant.

This is all leading to some thoughts about play writing. It occurred to me while writing my newest play and digging deep in the psyche of my characters, one of which is a spider, that perhaps it's pointless to turn out new plays, when existing plays are waiting to be shared with the world.  Speculating further, perhaps:

a.   the plays aren't well written, or...
b.   the subjects don't match the interest of the general public, or...
c.   the story line is boring, or...
d.  the theatre producers are sticking to well-known and proven playwrights and/or plays that are bank-able, financially.

One would hazard a guess that d. plays a big part in the final decision.

Actually, doing a count, I've written four full two-act plays, which have been edited to death over the years in hope that each re-write will make the difference between acceptance and rejection, one one-act play that at least has had a play reading, plus a number of short plays. Even if a play is fantastic, the competition "out there" in the playwriting world is significant, hence the rationale behind the contemplation and introspection bit. As any writer, playwright and anybody who writes will attest, once a writer - always a writer. There may be periods of self-doubt in which one questions the rationale behind choosing this craft...correction: you don't choose to be a writer/playwright/whatever. You just are because you have to be.

In one of his blogs in "The Producer's Perspective" Broadway producer, Ken Davenport, a Tony winner who knows the ins-and-outs of getting produced, offers playwrights five tips on how to get a producer to read a play. You can read his suggestions here: https://www.theproducersperspective.com/my_weblog/2009/02/how-to-get-a-producer-to-read-your-script.html. I've picked up some great advice and tips and recommend it.

Meanwhile, it's back to spide-y and the lady, who are waiting for the word. Hey - isn't this what it's all about in the end?

https://www.theproducersperspective.com/first-time-on-the-blog-start-here

SPIDER: the play

Finally, after a long-ish drought, started a new play that is coming along nicely, if I may say so myself and I do. The theme of the play is unusual, at least for me, focusing on a chance encounter between a spider and a female. Or is it a coincidental encounter?

Here is a small spin of "Spider" - an introduction.



'Will you walk into my parlour?' said the Spider to the Fly,
''Tis the prettiest parlour that ever did you spy;
The way into my parlour is up a winding stair,
And I have many curious things to show when you are there.'
'Oh no, no,' said the little Fly, 'to ask me is in vain,
For who goes up your winding stair can ne'er come down again.'

SPIDER

 

SCENE                      A bedroom.

AT RISE                    Female sleeping in her bed. A 'spider' slowly crawls up

                                   on to the bed from the foot of the bed and stops in the       middle. Staring at the sleeping woman causes her to stir to consciousness.

FEMALE

Sits up, turns on lamp

Wow! Weird dream! A nightmare, really. Ugh… black furry thingies…crawling everywhere…  Must be those tacos laying on my chest.

                        Covers herself and suddenly jolts to an upright position

 (Female cont’d) Now I can’t go back to sleep. Every time I close my lids, I keep seeing eyes watching me.

SPIDER

Hello there!

WOMAN

                        Woman looks around room, under bed for source of voice. Moving her head

                        to a normal position, she catches the sight of the spider. She brings her knees

                        up to her chest level in a fear response

Agh! OmyGaw-d! A spider! What am I supposed to do? Nobody around to get rid of it! Where’s a spider slayer when you need one! Oh Gaw-d! I know – I’ll swat it with today’s paper… Wait! I threw it out! Oh Gaw-d-oh-Gaw-d… Gotta calm down - just get up and get the bug spray on the veranda. That means I have to push back the covers and what happens if it - if it jumps on me! I’m gonna die!

SPIDER

Such melodrama, my dear. You do realize that you're considerably larger than my miniscule dimensions. The only defence I have are – well – eight legs in which to escape enemies and venomous sac to…

WOMAN

Stop! Too much information!

SPIDER

It’s unfathomable as to why you humans fear we tiny and defenceless arthropods to such a degree. We live a quiet life in a web, not bothering anyone and yet your kind is determined to destroy our existence. Why?

WOMAN

We just do – ‘kay? Now how am I gonna get off the bed to get something to –

SPIDER

- kill me? Squash me into a black mass? Tear off my legs?

WOMAN

Something like that…

SPIDER

What did I ever do to deserve such murderous intent?

WOMAN

You’re…you. A spider. The enemy. Something to be feared

SPIDER

But here we are, talking to each other in a civilized fashion and yet you have homicidal thoughts running through your head

WOMAN

(opening a night table drawer)

I think there’s a Home and Garden magazine in here somewhere… It’s got weight, which will be perfect –  

SPIDER

- let’s not be so hasty. Perhaps we can open a dialogue so that we can examine our situation and see if we can arrive at a mutual understanding we both can live with…

WOMAN

…darn! Where’d I put that magazine...

SPIDER

…it seems by your choice of reading matter that you are a lover of the outdoors…

WOMAN

…here, somewhere...

SPIDER

…what’s the rush? Let’s at least open a discussion…

WOMAN

There’s nothing to talk about. You’re a spider that hast'a be eliminated

SPIDER

To be honest, I didn’t just arrive here, now. In fact, I’ve been hanging around in the true sense of the word (chuckles) for months, out of sight, watching and studying you

WOMAN

Where? I mean, I never spotted you

SPIDER

Oh here, there, everywhere… In the bedroom, kitchen but mostly in a corner in the den

WOMAN

Like, how long are we talking here? A week…days…

SPIDER

Much longer than that. Try a whole year, which is quite a personal accomplishment given you humans penchant for instant spider elimination the minute you catch sight of us

 

WOMAN

Why are you still here?

SPIDER

I ask myself the same question given the odds against survival. Fascination, I guess, not to mention your house is quite an agreeable place to hang out, if you’ll excuse the pun, again. I’m especially taken with your extensive collection of house plants, many of which I’m attracted to

WOMAN

Used to have more but somehow they always ended up being attacked by bugs and I’m personally against using those anti-insect sprays. Not environmentally friendly

SPIDER

That’s very considerate of you being an insect lover myself, but for a different reason

WOMAN

And that would be

SPIDER

Let’s just say that I help control the bug population

WOMAN

Like, that is so cannibalistic. Where’s that magazine…

SPIDER

A spider has’ta eat, y’know

WOMAN

Stop! I’m feeling nauseas! I don’t wanna know anything more. I know it’s here somewhere…

SPIDER

That it on the lamp table over in the corner?

WOMAN

Must’a left it there a couple of months ago.

                        they sit staring at each other for a minute, immobile

SPIDER

Changed your mind? A reprieve for me, perhaps?

WOMAN

I’m just wondering… What happens if I…like…push the covers back and make a run for the magazine?

SPIDER

Definitely do-able. Let’s examine the possibility. You would throw back the covers thereby covering me up and causing me to be temporarily immobile and I, in turn, in an effort to avoid being squashed, would creep away and hide. There are so many good places to avoid being seen and we may not meet again in person for a long time.

WOMAN

Hide? Where?

SPIDER

Can’t say for sure. Somewhere in the house, out of view but within sight of you

WOMAN

In this room?

SPIDER

Perhaps. Then again, maybe not. Maybe in the basement in your laundry basket…or perhaps in your food cupboard, or in the den. Who knows!

 

WOMAN

But I have to pee and the bathroom is on the other side of the room

SPIDER

Oh I do love the bathroom. So nice and damp, especially the bathtub

WOMAN

Look – I’m not kidding – I really have to go

SPIDER

Hey – don’t let me stop you. All you have to do is get off the bed and walk to the bathroom. Such an easy move

WOMAN

                        Grabs the magazine and rolls it up

 

Okay… Concentrate… One smack…

                        Slides down bed towards the spider, who starts moving towards her

Stop moving! I – I can’t look at your eyes. Stop!

SPIDER

Do you really expect me to do nothing in the way of avoiding imminent death?

WOMAN

How about a temporary truce?

SPIDER

We could open a discussion.

WOMAN

Okay. The reality is I gotta go to the bathroom and in order to get there have to get off this bed.and by you, which isn't physically difficult. I’ll put down this magazine, at least for now, if you stay exactly where you are

SPIDER

How do I know I can trust you?

WOMAN

How do I know I can trust YOU?

SPIDER

Given your size compared to my miniscule dimensions, seems I have more to lose than you

WOMAN

Size isn’t necessarily an indicator of bravery. Things are getting desperate here. Do we have a deal?

SPIDER

Hmmmm. Depends

WOMAN

On what?

SPIDER

The terms of our temporary arrangement

WOMAN

Like - can we please get this discussion over with?

SPIDER

How long would this truce last?

WOMAN

I dunno. Fifteen minutes… Things are really at the desperate stage now

SPIDER

Fifteen minutes? That’s it? I have to stay here, immobile, trusting that you’ll use the magazine strictly for reading purposes? No deal

WOMAN

Fine. Okay. How about an hour, then?

SPIDER

Let's go for four hours. That'll give us enough time to discuss our situation and try to arrive at a favorable solution to our impasse

 

The neighbors are still fueding over shrubs

Once again, for the umpteenth time (how much exactly is umpteen, one wonders), just finished yet another update and re-write of "Neighbors" now known and re-titled, "The Shrubs."

It's been more than a year since putting the play to bed for a while in the hope of gaining some perspective as to its contents and viability. It's always been a favorite play because the characters get to say some entertaining and amusing lines. In the way of background information for people who aren't familiar with the story line, it focuses on the long standing dispute between two neighbors and the erroneous placement of a set of shrubs that divide their two properties. One wants them removed while the other is determined that they will stay, forever.

There weren't really many changes other than some inconsistences that were missed somehow, during the many re-writes. This was caught due to the breathing space between re-reads. In any case and because I like the play, here is the opening dialogue.

The two neighbors, Portman and Taylor, take great pleasure in defending their view points with verbal barbs.  Ignore the formatting since it was a cut-and-paste from Word.

THE TIME

The present, mid-summer

SETTING: Back garden(s) of two neighbors. A picket fence separates their properties

AT RISE:  Morning. Hot summer's day.

 

SOUND FX: Lawnmowers

ROBBIE (ROB) PORTMAN lazes in a hammock reading a book while holding a glass of liquid in the other hand. Dressed in cut-off jeans and a grungy t-shirt, his hair is long and unkempt and he sports a heavy beard

Dressed in a short-sleeved dress shirt and pants, JEFFRY TAYLOR, his next door neighbor, is the antithesis of PORTMAN, and a perfectionist. TAYLOR tends to his garden stopping periodically to study PORTMAN and finally makes his way over to their common fence.

 

TAYLOR

(wiping forehead)

Must be a hundred degrees in the shade today. I’d be indoors right now if my tomatoes didn’t need pampering. That’s the real secret of growing big veggies, y’know. Give em extra ‘TLC’… Hello? Hope I'm not disturbing you or anything

PORTMAN

           Takes gulp of liquid from glass

Must be them darn chipmunks makin’ a racket again' Gettin’ so’s a person can't read in peace anymore

TAYLOR

 How long have you been laying there?

PORTMAN

What time did the sun rise, today?

TAYLOR

Another liquid breakfast, I presume

PORTMAN

For your information, it’s plain orange juice

TAYLOR

And? You expect me to believe that? Oranges aren’t the only thing in your juice to give you – in your vernacular – a buzz

PORTMAN

Go suck a lemon. Wait – you don’t need to. You’re sour enough

TAYLOR

Touchy-touchy. You know what I’m getting at

PORTMAN

Okay – say it. You’re just dying to. Then go away

TAYLOR

It’s not like I haven’t said it a thousand times before

PORTMAN

How does what I do affect your life?

TAYLOR

Cheez Portman, it's only gone ten in the morning! You’re well on your way to turning into an alcoholic. Did I say turning into?

PORTMAN

Been there - heard it all before so don’t waste your breath. Go tend to your carrots or something. They need the Taylor touch

TAYLOR

Don’t ask me why but I care ‘bout you. Maybe something to do with the fact we've been neighbors going on twenty years and I don't wanna see you end up with cirrhosis of the liver - or worse

PORTMAN

Since when do you give a crap about whether I live or die?

TAYLOR

Better ,a neighbor you know than one you don’t. Don’t feel like breaking in someone new at this stage of my life

PORTMAN

Don’chu worry ‘bout me moving away. I intend to be here for a long, long time. It's too much fun bugging the shit out’ta you

TAYLOR

Do you see the incongruity in your chosen profession?

PORTMAN

Maybe I would if I could understand the question. Give me advance warning when you’re gonna give me another of your dumb lectures and I’ll make sure to have a dictionary handy

TAYLOR

Owning a bar must be the best thing that ever happened to you with your thirst

PORTMAN

It’s a living and I like the people who drop by. You know – regular people. Something you wouldn’t know anything about

TAYLOR

Denial – a sign of an alcoholic. Can’t you see the writing on the wall?

PORTMAN

You talking 'bout that "keep of the grass” sign you got posted all over your property? It's the joke of the neighborhood, y'know


Drains glass and checks watch

 

Gotta leave. Patty's opening today

TAYLOR

Another one of those Hooter waitresses?

PORTMAN

As if someone the likes of you would notice. You’re more into cucumbers, if you get my drift and for your information – not that I owe you anything - Patty is the right hand to my lef

TAYLOR

I bet she’s that and more

PORTMAN

And what would you know about sex? The closest you come is playing with your veggies

TAYLOR

t least it’s something productive

PORTMAN

Take a look at yourself and your life. Work your butt off for a multi-national all those years and what's it got you? A dinky house and a veggie garden. How do you stand the excitement?

TAYLOR

Save me from the melancholy alcoholic offering his view of life in a brief second of clarity. In all the years we've lived next door to each other, the only position I've seen you is lying on your back with your lips glued to the rim of a beer bottle. How long has it been, anyway, since you held down any type of job, if ever

 

PORTMAN

What's it your business?

TAYLOR

Figure you must be in your mid-forties or thereabouts

PORTMAN

Never found a position to suit my qualifications

TAYLOR

ust be near impossible to find a company that's looking for a hammock tester. How you've managed to survive on next to nothing is nothing short of a miracle, but then I would imagine your needs are few and far between. A bottle opener, a case of beer and you're all set

PORTMAN

Don't need big money to impress people like you do. I'm a simple guy with simple tastes

TAYLOR

And a big one for booze. How many bottles d'ya figure you drink of that poison a day? A dozen? More?

PORTMAN

Who counts?

TAYLOR

You sure as hell don't. Just bugs me to see you wasting your life away, doing nothing productive

PORTMAN

So don't look man! Turn your head the other way and mind your own business for a change and not mine! Listen! Your tomatoes are calling you

TAYLOR

All I can say is that I wouldn't waste mine lying on my back 

PORTMAN

Did somebody ask you to? It beats having to listen to you foam at the mouth about the evils of drink

TAYLOR

A person has'ta leave his mark on this world! He's gotta be able to tell future generations: ‘I-was-here!’

PORTMAN

My niece and nephew will know all about me, alright, ‘cause I’m leaving them something to remember me by.  When I pass on, this here house'l go to them, along with those beau-ti-ful shrubs. It’s all written out in my will

TAYLOR

By the time they inherit your house if you still own it, those shrubs'l be long gone, I can promise you that

PORTMAN

Might even build a de-luxe-y tree house for them this summer so's their grandkids can learn all about nature, up close and personal-like…

TAYLOR

Wouldn't count on that, if I were you

PORTMAN

…maybe hang some tire swings from the branches…

TAYLOR

ver my dead body!

PORTMAN

I can arrange that. Anyway, you don't have any say what I do with them shrubs

TAYLOR

Maybe not right now but don't count on them being here much longer

TAYLOR

How come the topic of conversation between us always ends up about your so-called shrubs growing on my property? Ten years of begging you to dig 'em up and they're still
standing, getting taller every year. The longer you leave them, the more it's gonna cost you to cut 'em down when the time comes

PORTMAN

There ain't ever gonna be a time and they ain't ever gonna be cut so I ain't worried none