Wednesday, December 27, 2006

PHONE TALK
(a comedy sketch)
by Eleanor Tylbor


SCENE:
Two females – ELAINE AND SELMA – answer their cell/regular phones

ELAINE
Hello? Selma?

SELMA
Who are you and how d’ya know my name?

ELAINE
Gee – just lucky I guess! Get real, woman! It’s me!

SELMA
You…who?

ELAINE
Oh fer… Don’t you recognize the voice of your sister after all these years? I mean, really

SELMA
You sound different

ELAINE
(sniffing a few times)
I got a cold, that’s why!

SELMA
It is you, Elaine! Why didn’t you just say so?

ELAINE
I tried – God knows I tried! Moving right along…

SELMA
You’re sick? Stay away from me!

ELAINE
I can always count on you to have a sympathetic ear. Listen – I gotta go put drops in my nose so I’ll call you back

SELMA
Are you sure you should be talking to me? I mean – you could spread germs through the phone. These days you never know

ELAINE
Don’t take too long ‘cause I’m going out

(both hang up. Phones ring again)

SELMA
Hello?

ELAINE
It’s me again. Sorry – hadda take some new pills

SELMA
Oh? What kind?

SELMA
Go know! I take so many these days. Some for my sinus (she sniffs)…some for my throat (she coughs)… Yeah – lots of pills…

ELAINE
So what’s new?

SELMA
What could be new?

ELAINE
I dunno. That’s why I’m asking

(pause for 2 seconds)

SELMA
I lead a very boring life and most of it is spent in doctor’s waiting rooms

ELAINE
You
? I have five appointments this week with five different doctors! Even they can’t find out what’s the matter with me

SELMA
Doctor Cohen sent me for tests, today

ELAINE
Your back?

SELMA
I never went away. Oh…you mean the problem with my crooked spine that pains me so badly? Same pain like always but what can you expect having Dr. Pain treating me…that quack!

ELAINE
A new doctor?

SELMA
That’s not his name. I just call him that. He keeps prescribing me pills that don’t work. I tell him, ‘doctor – gimme something that works!’ but does he listen? You should never know such pain. I suffer Elaine – I suffer plennnnnty!

ELAINE
You think that I don’t know pain? My neck is so sore, I can’t turn my head anymore

SELMA
So? Look straight ahead. Nothing much happens on the sides anyway

ELAINE
I’m serious! The back doctor gave me some free samples to try but they don’t work

SELMA
What kind of pills?

ELAINE
Lemme think a minute…they’re yellow…phila…feeda…fadda…something like that. Anyway, what do you care? You don’t have back problems

SELMA
So what? Maybe they’d be good for my shoulder. (moaning) Ohhhhhhhh….

ELAINE
This is new. You never mentioned shoulder pain before. Maybe try acupuncture. Freda Smith tells me that she goes to that Swedish guy, Hans Offer and it worked miracles for her

SELMA
(laughing)
I’ve heard about doctor Offer and believe me – needles aren’t the only things he gives her if you know what I mean. Look at the time

ELAINE
You’ve got an appointment?

SELMA
That’s later. I’m off to the shopping mall. Big sale today

ELAINE
What about you shoulder…and your neck pain…

SELMA
What’s a little ache between the bargains. You know what they say – when the going gets tough – the tough go shopping. So you’ll be ready in 10 minutes?

ELAINE
Make it fifteen. And Selma – bring along some of those new yellow pills
©2004 Eleanor Tylbor

Saturday, December 16, 2006

The Very Merry Christmas/Holiday Pageant: Scene III

SCENE III

THE VERY MERRY CHRISTMAS/HOLIDAY PAGEANT (a group-written play)
There is a bright yellow light above the stage that slowly gets larger and sparkly. Descending down from a rope with a hook attached to the back of her costume is the latke faery godmother, OIL DEPAN. She waves to the audience and the rope turns in circles. Finally, she attempts to remove herself from the rope but is stuck on the hook.

LATKE GODMOTHER, OIL DEPAN
(looking up)
Do you mind? Hello! The eagle has landed!(the rope starts to shake pulling her around the stage)Oi! I'm getting sea-siiiiiiick! Oh the union is gonna hear about this! Oh well... The show must go on

(FELICIA LOOKSGALORE is sitting by the fireplace, her head buried in her hands, sobbing and wailing out loud)

LATKE GODMOTHEROh! What - I mean, who do we have here? A sobbing scullery maid with yucky hands. Perhaps she needs some advice that only a godmother like myself can provide.

(she attempts to approach FELICIA but the rope keeps pulling her back)

LATKE GODMOTHER(staring upward and pulling on the rope)
I said,,, 'perhaps she needs advice that only I can provide...!' I need some rope!

(she approaches FELICIA)

(cont'd.) Um...excuse me but I can't help but notice that you are crying. Mind you I would cry too with those hands. Cheez - talk about gross!

(FELICIA looks up at the LATKE GODMOTHER, stops crying for a few seconds and then starts again)

LATKE GODMOTHER
I mean, of course, you're breaking your Latke Godmother's heart.

FELICIA
(stops crying abruptly)
Are you my faery godmother?

LATKE GODMOTHERThat's what they tell me. Mind you, they've been wrong before. Last year for example, they sent me to Jennifer...Jennifer...what was her name now... Anssiton? Asston... Something like that. Seems she was having major tsouris (problems) with Brad somebody-or-the-other. I mean, I'm good but I can't work miracles! Know what I mean?

FELICIAIs it normal for latke godmother's to gossip about their clients? What can you do for me? Can you get me out of this kitchen and back to society where I really belong?

LATKE GODMOTHERHmmm... How about I teach you instead how to fry latkes? I'm good at that!

FELICIA
Who cares about latkes...

LATKE GODMOTHER
I'd be very careful how you choose your words from this point on...

FELICIA
mean, learning to make latkes is like, very important in life and please don't think I don't wanna learn but..

LATKE GODMOTHER
Good. First, we gotta find us some potatoes. I'm good at potato conjuring today. Maybe Yukon gold would be best... Then again, Idaho are good...

FELICIAMaybe...we could like, work on the latkes later?

LATKE GODMOTHER(distracted)
...of course red potatoes are sweet...but I think we should stick to Yukon Gold...

FELICIAI DON'T WANT TO MAKE LATKES! Got that? No potatoes. No latkes.

LATKE GODMOTHER
(shocked)
Oh...I see... Fine. No latkes.... She...doesn't want to make... latkes! You're trying to break my heart, aren't you? That's it, isn't it? You wanna break an old ladies heart.(she yanks the rope and looks upward)

LATKE GODMOTHERGimme more rope so I can hang myself!

FELICIAStop being so melodramatic! Did I say I don't like latkes? Noooo! I never said that! My exact words were, 'I don't wanna make them' period. Of course I love latkes. Doesn't everyone? What would the world be without latkes in it? Chanukah without latkes is like - um - well -

LATKE GODMOTHER
(looking upward)
Forget about the rope for now. You really mean that or are you just trying to make an old lady feel good?

FELICIA
I swear it's true! Really!

LATKE GODMOTHERWell...I suppose you could be telling the truth

FELICIAListen. Before we start on the latkes, shouldn't we do something about my hands? Look at them! A disgusting festering mess of...

LATKE GODMOTHER
(gagging)
Oi-vay...please...hide...them

FELICIASee what I mean? Even you, my latke godmother gets sick just hearing about them

LATKE GODMOTHER(burping and gagging)
Must be something I ate. Perhaps you should hide them...that is to say, keep them covered until I can concoct a magic potion. Hmmmmm... I think this calls for some advice from somebody with stronger magic.

(LATKE GODMOTHER starts to move her hands in a frenzy chanting,
'George Clooney. Brad Pitt. This princess needs help real quick!'
FELICIADon't tell me that they're - you know - one of your kind?

LATKE GODMOTHERDon't I wish! I just like to say their names. That's the closest an old lady like me will ever get

Suddenly there is a loud noise and a cloud of smoke and when the smoke clears we see....
To be continued...

Wednesday, December 13, 2006

Very Merry and Mirthful Christmas/Holilday Pageant

THE VERY MERRY AND MIRTHFUL CHRISTMAS/HOLIDAY PAGEANT


Curtain up! Light the lights!

SCENE: The scullery of Lotsofeuros Mansion. Felicia Looksgalore, the beautiful and well-endowed but poverty-stricken sister of the three ugly Lotsofeuros sisters, Meesa, Reesa and Penelope, is sitting at the fireplace stirring a boiling cauldron of...something.

FELICIA LOOKSGALORE
Oh woe is me, woe is me! My once beautiful hands are a shadow of what they used to be. Look at them now, a bleeding and festering mess of pus and blood.

(Audience gasps and gags)

AUDIENCE: GASP-GASP...GAG-GAG...

FELICIA
If only...if only there was a way that I could attend the annual Kosher Caterers Ball. I remember how much fun I used to have there. Lots of brisket (translation: cut of roast beef) and...and... Oh what's the use! How can I, Felicia Looksgalore, ever hope to look good enough to be one of the upper class twits once again! I am a shadow of what I used to be. I remember how much fun it was to be one of "them" and now I am a common scullery maid living beneath the stairs... Uh-oh - what do we have here?

(FELICIA bends over and picks up a sparkly lamp)

FELICIA
It looks like...a sparkly but tacky lamp. Perhaps it has magic qualities and I can make a wish on it... (she blows on it) Oooooo - gross! Dust! I shall clean this lamp with my apron. I wonder who owns this sparkling but tacky lamp.

(Suddenly there is a large bang and a puff of smoke. Once the smoke disappears, a figure emerges.

The figure becomes more clear. There stands the Sugarplum Queen. She sighs and brushes off her dress, straightens her tiara and coughs, daintily, of course.

SUGARPLUM QUEEN
Cough...cough...

When the audience sees that it is the queen, they gasp and then sigh at her extraordinary loveliness and ethereal delicateness...delicateism...delicate...okay, the queen looks divinely delicate and breathtakingly beautiful.

SUGARPLUM QUEEN
Cough, cough. Uh, where am I and who brought me here?

(The queen cups her hand above her eyes and peers around the stage and out into the audience)

SUGARPLUM QUEEN
Who rubbed that darn thing again? Oh, spit, it's you. Are you whining again about your hands? I told you the last time, use Palmolive but, nooooooo, you don't listen!

(The queen admires her own porcelain smooth hands)

SUGARPLUM QUEEN
If you're not going to do what I have suggested the last fourteen times you've summoned me, then I can't help you

FELICIA LOOKSGALORE
But...you're the Sugarplum Queen! I didn't summon you. I don't know why in the world you showed up. I don't need dermatological advice, I need help getting to the Kosher Caterers' Ball! Can you help me with that?

SUGARPLUM QUEEN
(with her hands on her hips)
Do I look like William Shatner? Priceline is four rubs-I'm six! Think before you rub, why doncha? Oh, damn, I chipped a nail.

FELICIA LOOKSGALORE
But I didn't summon you! You've never helped anyone get anywhere except to the cosmetic counter! I need help getting to the ball. I have no idea why you showed up.

SUGARPLUM QUEEN
It's probably that darn Magic Lamp Union again. Either they can't get their act together or you still haven't learned to count. Eww... what is that you're boiling over there? You're not trying to cook again, are you?

(FELICIA LOOKSGALORE
(running back to the pot and stirs it again)
Oh, Lord! You've done made me let it burn!

SUGARPLUM QUEEN
First, you drag me here right in the middle of my manicure and then it's my fault that you can't cook or count? Give me a break! How about doing me a favor? Next time you wanna make a wish, rub the damn lava lamp! Stop rubbing that stupid unionized lamp! I have a very busy schedule and I can't be poofed off-(queen speaks in whiney, baby voice)- everytime some pathetic, whining scullery maid has visions of grandeur and hasn't been invited to 'the ball'-(making quotations gestures with her fingers). You wanna have visons of sugarplums, then let me know. But, I am booked up for the next month so vision something else for a while. Get a life....and put some lotion on those disgusting hands, for crying out loud.

FELICIA LOOKSGALORE
Some fairy godmother you are! I don't know how you got the job!

SUGARPLUM QUEEN
Listen, dirt-knuckles, I am not your 'fairy' god-anything! We are not relately, thank God. I am the Sugarplum Queen! You rubbed the stupid lamp wrong. It's not my fault that you are inept at lamp rubbing. Apparently, you can't cook or rub competently. Take it up with your real fairy godmother...if you can get her away from the blackjack tables. Now, I'm outta here. Your funk is burning again.

(The Sugarplum Queen fades away,coughing, in a puff of glittery gold smok)

FELICIA LOOKSGALORE
Oh great! Now, I have to sweep up her stupid gold residue!

(Felicia picks up the lamp again)

Dumped on again. Why me?
TO BE CONTINUED...

Wednesday, November 29, 2006

THE APPOLOGIZER...a Python-esque short-short-short playette
by Eleanor Tylbor




CAST OF CHARACTERS
CLIENT
PROFESSIONAL APPOLOGIZER (PA)

SCENE:
A small office. A man is seated behind a desk, absorbed in writing something

CLIENT

Excuse me...

PROFESSIONAL. APPOLOGIZER (OR PA)
You're looking for a job, right?

CLIENT
Not really...

PA
Well it's a natural assumption you dropping by here

CLIENT
Sorry?

PA
There you go again!

CLIENT
I beg your pardon?

PA
See what I mean? You're a real natural!

CLIENT
Come again?

PA
Oh you're good alright!

CLIENT
Let me explain. I'm looking for the Appologies'R'US Enr.

PA
That would be us

CLIENT
Good. So I'm in the right place

PA
You would be correct. I am an ARSE

CLIENT
If you say so

PA
ARSE...? That's what we call ourseves. Arses

CLIENT
O-kaaaaay...

PA
What can we do for you?

CLIENT
I'm looking for someone to appologize for me

PA
That can be arranged. And what will we be appoligizing for?

CLIENT
A late return of a library bookPAOh that's a bad one alright. How late are we talking here?

CLIENT
Well...um...

PA
Come now - don't be shy!

CLIENT
Okay. Twenty years

PA
Twenty years? Oh that's gonna cost you big bucks

CLIENT
I know. What with interest and everything

PA
Hmmm... This will be a challenge for sure. Okay. We'll do it! We ARSES can handle any task. There is no job too small or too bigfor an ARSE

CLIENT
I'm so relieved. When can you start?

PA
Perhaps next week...maybe the week after. Then again, it could be a few months

CLIENT
Is there a problem?

PA
No problem-0. Did I mention that we are the official chapter of Procrastinators Anonymous? I mean, what's a few more years between friends? Right?

(Like to use this short playette or any of the other plays posted in this blog? Send me an e-mail: ejul1@yahoo.com)

Wednesday, November 22, 2006

A BRA STRAP. A PLAIN OLD BROKEN BRA STRAP could be the key to success. Maybe. Hopefully.

Over the years I wrote two full plays, both comedies. Over the years I tweaked the plays to the point where I felt contented and assured enough to send them "out there" to various theatres and competitions. They have yet to be produced but it was always my belief that sombody, somewhere would produce at least one of them.

Over the years I've also written some short-shorts, one of which is entitled, "The Bra." It's based on my personal experience of trying to find - actually there is no real name for it - a plastic piece that attaches to a bra strap, which adjusts the tension of the bra and keeps boobs uplifted. In my play-ette I call it "a thingie."

It was a relatively new bra and this plastic thingie broke. No problem-o I think to myself and return it to point of purchase for a replacement part or perhaps with luck, a new bra. However (the howevers in life are so annoying!) there is a policy that bras can't be returned. Something about the fact that they're worn against the skin...unhegienic or something to that effect. To make matters worse neither they nor any other lingerie store carried the plastic "thingie" I required. Based on my frustrating experience, The Bra was born.

Only once has it been seen in public in a reading of my short-shorts but for some reason or another it has caught the imagination of the public. Wherever I go friends and aquaintances make a point of asking me about "the bra."

"I heard about your play...something to do with a bra..." people will tell me.

So the word is out: my bra is "in."

As an aside I still have "the bra" in question and bring it along as a prop. Even more interesting to me is how everyone wants to examine it. I mean, a bra is a bra is... Mind you, someone recently told me that she experienced the same problem and asked advice as to what she could do. Suddenly I'm a bra advocate!

You just never know what will catch the imagination of people. Imagine - my bra and the thingie of course. In case anybody reading this is interested, I also have a short-short based on my experience trying to get a free tea refill at a well-known fast food chain.

Saturday, September 02, 2006

One of my short plays (a favorite) focusing on the playwright and finding the right words while the actor is left searching for her/his "motivation." Feedback is always helpful and indeed welcome. I call this one:


FIVE PEOPLE AND A PLAYWRIGHT IN SEARCH OF A PLAY
By Eleanor Tylbor


CAST OF CHARACTERS:

BRENDA: Acerbic, aggressive, abrasive manner of communication

CHARLENE: Naïve, innocent and soft-spoken

MITZI: Confident, loves life especially relations with opposite sex

CHLOE Emotionally stable, secure, impatient nature

JULIE: The Playwright: creative, plagued with feelings of doubt and inadequacy

THE TIME Early morning hours


SETTING: Living room. A card table and chairs are situated to the side of the stage. On the other side of the stage is a computer set up consisting of a desk, chair and computer. There is a pile of crumpled paper strewn all over the floor

AT RISE: Four women are seated on fold-up chairs around a card table, absorbed in adjusting the playing cards in their hands. Bowls of popcorn and soft drink cans litter the surface of the table. On the other side of the stage the playwright (JULIE) is sitting at a computer desk, arms bent at elbows, staring out into space. She works the keyboard as the characters recite their lines

BRENDA
In case anyone cares, something is about to happen…very soon now…could even be momentarily…I can feel it…

Lays down cards on the table and thrusts remaining card in the air for all to see

Victory is at hand – or in my hand in this case! Oh I’m a winner all right!

CHARLENE

Shoves a hand full of popcorn in her mouth, and attempts to speak

Goof fo' you. Paf me de drink, Miffi

BRENDA
Didn't your momma teach you it's not nice to eat and talk? Then again for some people, a full mouth is part of a lifestyle. Isn't that right Mitzi, dearest?

MITZI
Jealousy will get you nowhere, sweetie. At least I'm not a dried up where it counts!

BRENDA
Touchy! I was merely commenting to Charlene that well-bred people don't speak with their mouths full! But then being that you’re a multi-tasker…I mean handling more than one person at a time…

MITZI
Breeding comes naturally in your family, doesn't it? Did they forget to give you your cube of sugar today? Clop your hoof once for yes and two for no

CHLOE
(to herself)
Bicker, bicker…bicker, … It would be nice to have a quiet game of cards for a change without throwing verbal knives at each other

CHARLENE
I think I'm close to calling Gin…

BRENDA
I would stay out of this if I were you, Chloe. Is your brother eligible for parole, yet?

CHLOE
I'm gonna start calling you Bossy, along with the other "b" word that rhymes with itch, and usually associated with a female dog! I try to be nice to you and what do I get in return?

CHLOE stares into space for approx. 10 seconds in silence


What do I get in return? Does anybody know?

CHARLENE
Do we guess?

CHLOE
I don’t think so. My mind is a complete blank. Is that normal?

Pause of 10 seconds while they all stare out into space


CHARLENE
I’m waiting

BRENDA
Me too. What are we waiting for?

MITZI
Some words and sentences I think

BRENDA
(puzzled)
Don't blame me for what comes out of my mouth. I just say the words. I don't create them. By the way, Chloe, what's your brother in for this time? Armed robbery or is it murder? I didn't mean to say that…or maybe I did…I’m not sure

MITZI
I really don't know why but I feel compelled to tell you…

Stands up and leans towards BRENDA

BRENDA
(standing up)
What?

MITZI
Why am I standing? I mean, what's my motivation? Could somebody tell me, please?

CHLOE
So sit down if you’re not sure. My philosophy is when in doubt – don’t

MITZI
Don’t what?

CHLOE
Um…I dunno. Take my word for it and just don’t. That’s all

CHARLENE
(excitedly)
Gin! What’s supposed to happen, now?

BRENDA
I’m not sure but I think something important is gonna happen. Does anybody have any ideas?

MITZI
Well…for starters, we’re all holding these pieces of paper in our hands

CHLOE
I wonder if that’s significant. What do yours look like, Brenda?

BRENDA
Let’s see… White background with red and black thingies…

MITZI
Thingies?

BRENDA
I dunno what you call them but they’re pretty, though. And there are numbers in the corners

CHLOE
Me too! Go figure!

MITZI AND CHARLENE TOGETHER
Ours too!

BRENDA
Okay. We’re making progress here. So…these playing cards… Hey! These are playing cards!

CHARLENE
You think?

BRENDA
I know! Those words just popped into my head!

CHARLENE
So you say. You could’a just make them up on the spur of the moment to impress us

BRENDA
Have you ever heard me use them before?

CHLOE
I never heard them in my entire life and that’s the truth

BRENDA
Then you’re all just gonna hav’ta take my word for it! These things are called playing cards

MITZI
Let’s say you’re right. What about them?

BRENDA
I dunno…what comes next?

CHARLENE
Y’know…I’ve been wondering if I should be eating popcorn or maybe change it for something else

MITZI
All you think about is food, food, food! There are more important things in life

BRENDA
Really? Like?

MITZI
Well…there just are

CHLOE
Sometimes, I get the feeling like I'm a puppet on a string or something, bowing to someone's wishes. Do any of you ever get that feeling?

CHARLENE
I said, ‘Gin’! Hello? I'll try again. Gin… Gin… Gin.

ALL TOGETHER
So?

CHARLENE
Darned if I know. We show up every day and twice on weekends holding these playing cards in our hands. Why? I keep asking myself that very question. Why am I here? Sometimes I scream “Gin!” out loud but nobody answers. Shouldn’t somebody answer me? I’ve been screaming that word for the last six months. Always the same words and lines, and then I call out, "Gin!"

Stares out in space and babbles to an invisible person

‘…she tries to make the others understand but they just stare at her blankly…she must determine the reason for her very existence…’

BRENDA
Who are you talking to?

CHARLENE
I really can’t say. Suddenly a bunch of words came tumbling out of my mouth for no reason. It's not the first time this has happened

BRENDA
Ask Mitzi. She knows all about objects in mouths

MITZI
I'm so sick of your sexual innuendoes, Brenda

CHLOE
Why do you react that way whenever the word “mouth” is mentioned?

MITZI
It’s not that I want to but I feel I have to. It’s as if I don’t have any choice in the matter

MITZI stands up with hands on hips, leans forward until her face is directly in front of Brenda

BRENDA
Yes? Well…?

MITZI
And…um…

Moves away from table, hops up and down and starts shadow boxing, fists waving in the air

I took a self-defense course! My hands are lethal weapons!

Cuts the air with side of hand

CHLOE
What does that mean?

MITZI
You are so not with it…well, it means…it means…

BRENDA
Oh pleeze! She doesn’t know

BRENDA
Let's settle this once and for all! C'mon – right here and now

MITZI
Fine with me…what are we supposed to do next?

BRENDA
Just… keep hitting the hair and dancing around I suppose

BRENDA and MITZI spar, fists jabbing the empty air

CHLOE

Stands up and places her purse strap over her shoulder

That's it! Nobody seems to care that I have yelled “Gin!”…whatever that means, but I'm sure it's important. I don't know about you all but I'm leaving! Anybody else gonna follow me?

MITZI

Attempts to attract the attention of the playwright

Excuse me? Hello? You up there? Could you stop staring at that screen for a minute? This isn't working for me at all. I'm sick-and-and tired of being a slut with a one-track mind. This play of yours is a bunch of words with no plot or direction and it breaks every playwriting rule in the book. Where's the protagonist and antagonist?

CHARLENE
What are you complaining about? My character is insecure, indecisive and naive, and those are her strong qualities. How'd you like to have those? I'm a smart, you know! I am smart, I think

BRENDA
Off the top of my head, I would guess that part of your problem is that you're a minor character, while mine plays a major role and more attention is required to develop Brenda, properly

CHARLENE
See what I mean? How come I can't be the smart one for a change?

CHLOE
With all due respect Charlene, honey, I don't think you have the emotional range to assume an analytical role of deep thinker, like we do. Right ladies?

They all shrug their shoulders and mumble: ‘Idunno’

CHARLENE
It's just not fair! Every day I hav'ta play the part of a simple minded female when in reality, I got it up here (points to her head) Guess that's what makes the words come out

CHLOE
You see, Charlene, my background lends itself to being a character with class…one of the rich beautiful people, while you – well dear - let's just say that you have interesting words in your sentences

CHARLENE
I'm as good as anyone here! You're all forgetting that we are the sum total of the playwright's vision. Hey – I can talk smart too! Why can't we take turns being each other?

MITZI
Let's not forget here that our origins are a computer memory chip. The only rich and famous person we're connected to is Bill Gates, and that's only because our playwright uses Word to write her plays. I say…we walk. Are you with me, ladies?

VOICE OF PLAYWRIGHT (JULIE)
Is there a problem?

BRENDA

Hands on hips, facing direction of playwright

We got your attention, huh? We've had it with these crappy lines! We're bored of being portrayed as vacuous women with blank minds. We're people too! We have feelings and we hurt and…

JULIE
May I remind you that you're nothing more than a bunch of words strung together to make a sentence? I make you who and what you are and I can eliminate you all with a push of my forefinger and a delete button. You're only communicating with me now because I'm exploring dialogue choices. You're all a figment of my imagination

CHARLENE
No need for threats, here. There's only so much that characters can take and we've reached the end of the line, so to speak. Do you like that, ladies? End-of-the-line?

CHLOE
Trés wit-ty, my dear

JULIE
What should I say? I've re-written and re-written you all at least two dozen times and no matter what I do, the dialogue sounds… wooden. And don't even ask about the plot, or lack of one, thereof

BRENDA
That's because you really don't really believe in us, do you? Deep down inside you're toying with the idea of deleting the text and starting a whole new play that will move in a new direction. Do you know what it's like living under that threat? I'll tell you – it's very disturbing

PLAYWRIGHT
Did I write that? I don't remember writing those words…

CHLOE
Now there's a perfect example of what I'm talking about! We never know where you're gonna take us next, right ladies? It's like…there's giant hands hanging over the stage dangling precariously, ready to strike at a moments notice. It's the uncertainty of the delete button that gets us down!

MITZI
For example, why do you always make me as an over-sexed whore? Maybe it would be good to be an upright female for a change. Not necessarily a nun or anything but an intelligent woman who has a direction and purpose in life. Not somebody who dresses in clothes three sizes too tight. Let Charlene assume that part for once. Wouldn't you like that, dear?

CHARLENE
I'll pass but I know where she's coming from! In spite of all your attempts at re-writes, you still make me out like an empty-headed…duh! I want to be respected like the rest of them, except Mitzi…no insult intended…

MITZI
None taken, dear. I'm used to it by now

JULIE
I never realized you all felt this way

BRENDA
Have you ever taken the time to really think about it? Of course not! We're mere computer bytes that can easily fade off the screen into oblivion, right? Not! We're an integral part of your imagination and without us, you have nothing

PLAYWRIGHT
But…you don't exist, other than the lives and personalities I give you!

CHLOE
Is it asking a lot for a few changes? A little respect? Some nice words and phrases? I don't think so! C'mon ladies, we're walking!

PLAYWRIGHT
You can't leave…

BRENDA
Watch us!

They attempt to move but stay as they are

JULIE
Have you characters not realized yet that every word coming out of your mouths, every physical movement that you all make is being written even as we speak? By me! The playwright! Without me, you’re nothing!

CHLOE
So now it’s threats, is it? We're merely asking for are some small changes, a few adjustments and maybe a new story line? You've been writing this play for how long now? Maybe two years? More?

JULIE
Is it my fault it needs lots of editing?

BRENDA
There comes a time when you have to stop playing with words and either produce it or let it die a peaceful death

CHLOE
I'm sure we can all come to some kind of an agreement that would be mutually beneficial to all concerned

MITZI
Do me a favor and make her speak like normal people?

JULIE
What about me, huh? Does anyone care about my feelings? You can't imagine what it's like to stare at a white screen, day after day, write a couple of sentences, read them over and then realize it's garbage! Inane, stupid, drivel! Then you wonder if you've still got it or maybe you never had it! Maybe give up the idea of playwriting altogether

CHARLENE
That would be so sad, 'specially being that you're so passionate about it!

MITZI
Don't fall for her sob story, Charlene. Let's get down to our demands. I wanna be somebody else. Gimme some interesting qualities. Lines that make me appear strong with a direction in life…and make me memorable

CHARLENE
…and I want more lines. How is it that everyone else gets major scenes and I'm limited to a few quips and comments? That's not balanced writing. I also want more emotional range, so that I can make the audience feel. Could you write me like that?

MITZI
Know what? For a change maybe it would be nice to have maternal qualities. I want to experience what it's like to be loved – really loved - by a husband and children. I'd really like that…

PLAYWRIGHT
Tell you what. You all furnish the inspiration and I'll supply the story line. That way we all win

CHLOE
Will we get credit as co-writers? I mean, after all, we do contribute something to the play

JULIE

Keying computer keys

Suddenly, everyone's a playwright! Act one, scene one…

Curtain


©2002 Eleanor Tylbor


Writers & Friends
www.jrslater.com/forum

Monday, August 14, 2006

First 10 of 30 pages of my play, "DEAD WRITES", first posted in 2006, and unfinished. Comments and/or feedback always appreciated. There are more characters as the play develops but for this purpose, only two of the characters are introduced.


DEAD WRITES (with minor changes on 9/11/2012)
By Eleanor Tylbor



CAST

FELICIA PEMBROOK: 50-something; former reporter, deceased
JOSIAH: Heavenly "Spiritual Adviser - Disembodied Souls Division:


AT RISE: A funeral parlor

SCENE: A group of people is seated in a funeral chapel, socializing for the most part, while waiting for the service to begin. Somber organ music is heard in the background. A coffin is situated on an elevated stand in the middle of the room. FELICIA PEMBROOK, wearing a long white flowing dress is lying next to the coffin. Slowly she sits up and looks around in a confused, slightly stunned. She touches her arms and pulls at the material of her dress, trying to get her bearings.

FELICIA
Really must'a tied one on last night. Weird, though. No hang-over like usual.

Stands upright and moves closer to coffin and strains
to see inside. A funeral organizer passes her without
acknowledging her presence

'Scuse me…hello'?'

 He ignores her and focuses on the coffin

FELICIA (cont'd.) Who's the corpse?

Man continues to ignore her

FELICIA (cont'd.) What is your problem? A name - that's all I need! It's not a lot to ask. Fine – suit yourself. I'll find out on my own!

A man, JOSIAH, enters and stands directly behind FELICIA. He has white hair, is dressed in a white shirt and matching white pants that glitter

JOSIAH
There's really no need to yell. I can provide you with that information

Startled, she whirls around to face him

FELICIA
You could give a person a heart attack sneaking up like that. And I thought I* looked bad? You look like a bad case of indigestion after eating too many Halloween candies. I've been trying to find out what's going on, but the guy over there is ignoring me.

JOSIAH
He can't hear you

FELICIA
My mind is a complete blank If only I could remember how and why I got here

JOSIAH
Not surprising

FELICIA
Do you know something that I don't? I get it, now! This is one of those new theme clubs and you're the bartender, right? That explains a lot

JOSIAH
The one thing that I can assure you, Felicia my dear, is that this is not a nightclub. You know…if you want…I could tell you who's in that coffin

FELICIA
How would you know unless… Here's me going on and on and you're burying someone who means a lot to you. That’s it, isn’t it? Sometimes I'm so dense and insensitive

JOSIAH
You hit the nail on the head. in a manner of speaking I’m related to that dead person in there. In fact…I'm acquainted with most people that pass through here and know them by first name

FELICIA
Now I get it! You work here, right? How else would you know all the corpses.

JOSIAH
Death is the human equalizer, don't you think?

FELICIA
I suppose so - can't say I've given it much thought lately

JOSIAH
Do those people sitting there look familiar to you?

FELICIA
Wait a minute…they work with me!
‘Hey guys -I get it – a surprise party, right? It's all a big joke. 'Ya don't hafta worry 'bout me giving things away! Whose birthday is it? Hello? I’m talking to youse all!’
Weird. They're all ignoring me like I was invisible or something... I-am-so-stupid! This is a "for real " funeral! That has'ta be it and this here is a real body in a real coffin! Okay…so…then…why am I here? Must be somebody I knew…

She strains to see in the coffin again without results

FELICIA
You seem to know a lot about this. What did you say your name was?

JOSIAH
I didn't

FELICIA
It wasn't Jack McGrath or Pete Winston was it? Don't know how many times I warned them both to slow down, but did they listen? Of course not! What does an old broad like me know, right?

JOSIAH
Not either one of them

FELICIA
That's a relief 'cause we're the last three old farts left at 'The Sentinal'. We all started out together at the same time and we've seen 'em come and we seen 'em leave. Some on to bigger and better and some in a wooden box like this here person. Things are sure different…Back when we were in our prime, the only thing we had'da know was a keyboard. Nowadays everything is electronic. They'll soon find a way to replace us real people with a terminal

JOSIAH
They'll always be a need for people, mind you humans are becoming much too dependent on machines for their own good

FELICIA
Look at 'em all. Young kids just out of J-school. What do they know about getting a story? How can you write about life if you never experienced it? Is there a real person in that coffin?

JOSIAH
Absolutely

FELICIA
Guess you were a friend of the departed, then?

JOSIAH
I'm friends with a lot of people. You can say that I help them through a difficult period

FELICIA
Oh so you're one of those…what do they call them…grief councilors? Bet you attend a lot of funerals, then

JOSIAH
I can honestly say that I've never missed one

FELICIA
Never?

JOSIAH
Never in all the years I've been assigned here

FELICIA
Have we met somewhere before|? The more I look at you, the more familiar your face looks to me. Hang on -  you're that new bartender at Pete's watering hole, right? Listen - I'll pay my tab next week I swear. It's just that I've been running a little short of cash lately…

JOSIAH
You and I have had a few close encounters in the past, Felicia, but this is the first time we've met one-on-one.

FELICIA
Alright then -let me think - What's the matter with me – I'm so dense! You own the new funeral parlor down the block and you're here to scope out the competition

JOSIAH
Not…exactly but you could say I'm in the funeral business, since I make a point never to miss any. In fact, funeral parlors are where I first connect with

FELICIA
(backing away)
Hey - you're not one of those slimy bastards who pick up rich, lonely women at funerals. Listen buddy, I'm not rich and certainly not in the market to add a new man in my life. Been there, done that, too many times. Know what I mean?

JOSIAH
Really, you're quite priceless, my dear. Trust me when I say my interest in you is anything but sexual in nature. You do like to ask questions

FELICIA
It's my nature to snoop and dig for answers

JOSIAH
Really, you don't have to. I'd be most happy to supply you with the necessary information

FELICIA
(glancing around)
Strikes me that this corpse wasn't too popular in life judging by the amount of people who showed up here

JOSIAH
It's quite sad, actually. She believed she never needed people and in the end, seems that people weren't there when she needed them

Mourner (JANICE) moves to front of room, and stands in front of coffin

Janice?  Hey girl, we were supposed to meet for lunch yesterday! I showed up but what happened to you?

JANICE
You miserable, lying witch! At last you made a useful contribution to the world and left it! Good riddance to bad rubbish

FELICIA
Is that the way to talk about the dearly departed? Even dead people deserve respect from the living. Your mama never taught you any manners?

JANICE touches the coffin and returns to her seat

Janice? You-hoo! It's me. (aside to JOSIAH) I'm not surprised! She was always a grudge holder. We better take a seat. The minister  is here

FELICIA stops to give Janice "the finger" as she walks by her and sits with others, accompanied by JOSIAH. Turns to smiles at the man sitting next to her

Heeeey Pete-eee! So, how things goin' with you? Sorry 'bout that story but I just couldn't help myself. I'll return the favor. You know how it is in our biz

PETE ignores FELICIA and talks to female on other side

Still mad at me, huh?

JOSIAH
He can't hear you

FELICIA
What are you talking about? Of course he can but he's busy chatting up the new receptionist. He's probably still pissed 'cause I stole a lead on the story! Far be it for me to beg forgiveness. He knows that's the way things work. First come - first served!

JOSIAH
And you certainly helped yourself, didn't you?

FELICIA
Listen, if something falls into my hands, who am I not to take advantage? I needed a lead and Pete was nice enough to do the legwork for me. We're old friends anyway. He'll come around eventually, won't you Pete, sweetie?

JOSIAH
You justify everything. Has it dawned on you, yet, why you're here and that all these people are ignoring you?

FELICIA
Here to pay my respects to someone who worked in the paper. It's bugging me, though, how I physically got here and how I landed up lying next to a coffin. I've covered practically every kind of story but I can't ever remember spending the night in a funeral parlor. Maybe I was after a story - why is my mind blank?

JOSIAH
It's a temporary fog that will clear after you…

FELICIA
Sssh! Talk softer. We're gonna get kicked out

MINISTER steps behind podium

MINISTER
Friends…

a voice calls out:

'She didn't have any, so move on!'

MINISTER
..we are here to bid goodbye to one…

another voice:

'Good riddance to bad rubbish!'

MINISTER
…a…good reporter and… a good friend and colleague.

voice in back of room:

' …at least we won't have to worry 'bout her itchy fingers and wandering eyes, anymore'

FELICIA
This corpse must'a really screwed them over but good, but she – you did say it was a woman? Like I was saying, the dead deserve some respect too.

FELICIA stands up and addresses everyone

'That's no way to speak about the dead, you bunch of parasites. Have some respect!'

MINISTER
Is there anyone here who has something positive to say, about the departed?

 Silence in the room

Surely there must be one person in this entire room, that could say a few nice words about the late Felicia Pembrook? Anybody?

FELICIA
I can speak for myself, thank you very much…What's with this "late" crap?

MINISTER
No one? Then we'll proceed with the funeral service

FELICIA
What in the hell is he talking about? 'I'm still among you, in the flesh! Look!'

JOSIAH
Please try to control using the "h" word? I've been trying to tell you that no one can hear you – or see you, either

FELICIA
They're doing it on purpose to teach me a lesson. Well, it won't work people! I'm on to you all!

 FELICIA stands up on chair, waves and screams on top of her
lungs

FELICIA
Felicia is here! The old witch is alive and kicking. You can't ignore me forever

JOSIAH walks to the front of the room, and stands behind the coffin

JOSIAH
I'm the only person who can see you

FELICIA
This is a nightmare and soon I'm gonna wake up and everything will be like it should. That's it. A nightmare…musta been a bad rack of ribs…alright…I gotta will myself to wake up now…wake-up…wake-up…c'mon body – get up! Please get up! Why aren't I waking?

JOSIAH
Come over here and take a peak inside

FELICIA moves slowly to the front of the coffin and peers down. She
jumps back

FELICIA
If this is a bad joke, I don't have a good sense of humor, today. Enough already. I don't know how you did this, to make a person look just like me. A dummy…it's a dummy, right? Hey - it's been a blast meeting you, but I got things to do, places to go…

Aside to mourners:
Okay you guys. You pulled off the ultimate practical joke. Got me fair and square. I give in. C'mon – don't be such grudge holders! You know I was only doing what you would'a done in my place

JOSIAH
It's you in there for real

FELICIA
Who hired you, huh, and how much did they pay to help pull off this prank? Whatever they gave you – I'll double it to get even

JOSIAH
Money is of no importance to me and this is no joke

FELICIA
So, then, what is it? A play? This is performance art?

JOSIAH
Trust me when I tell you that you are here in spirit only

FELICIA
Oh I got spirit, alright, that comes straight out'ta a bottle of vodka. You wouldn't happen to have a flask on you?

JOSIAH
Check your body over…it's not solid anymore

FELICIA
I'm talking to…you…but my body is transparent…see through and… it's as if somebody erased my memory

JOSIAH
There is no more Felicia Pembroke as you knew her

FELICIA
When did this happen?

JOSIAH
Two days ago. A massive heart attack while eating a Big Mickey Trio. Died with a french-fry stuck in your throat

FELICIA
Didn't anybody give me CPR to try and save my life?

JOSIAH
The restaurant staff worked on you for at least 15 minutes but it was your time to go

FELICIA
If I'm dead like you say, then what am I doing here?

JOSIAH
The "inner circle" so-to-speak, decided it would be an appropriate learning experience for you to attend your own funeral

FELICIA
But…I'm not ready. Let me show you that I can change. Everyone deserves a second chance

JOSIAH
Time on earth as you knew it is over, but something important has to be taken care of before you move on

FELICIA
It's all so unfair! I never killed anyone other than an occasional squirrel and that was only when I was driving to get a story. They don't count anyway - do they? There are so many of them

JOSIAH
You didn't exactly live an exemplary life, lying and betraying your colleagues. Those qualities alone would normally be enough to send you to - you know - the other place

FELICIA
Hey! There's no way I'm not going there!

JOSIAH
A temporary soul-free zone has been negotiated by all the interested parties, on your behalf. You have one year to redeem yourself and if you can't - let me put it this way - I hope you like heat

FELICIA
I'll do anything. Just tell me what you want! I'm your humble servant! Your willing slave

Drops down on her knees

I'm begging you – save me from hell and eternal damnation!

JOSIAH
Please – get up. I hope you mean what you say, because you're not going to like what you'll hear

FELICIA
Like I said, name it, only don't let them take me to the other place! I can't take the heat!

JOSIAH
They'll be some challenges ahead and some tough decisions will have to be made. Do you really want to stay 'til the end?

FELICIA
So now I know what people really thought about me. I figured not everybody liked me, but at least I was respected. Now I know I had neither of those things

JOSIAH
You brought it all on yourself but let's not dwell on what was. It's time to focus on what will be. The good part is that there is always an opportunity to improve yourself

Looks up

'Tribune office, please'

(The two disappear)

Thursday, August 10, 2006

THE DAILY ANGST...OR THE GREEN EYED MONSTER MAKES ITS PRESENCE FELT

Don't get me wrong (always an ominous opening phrase) and I'm happy for everyone who "makes it" in show biz, but...

Let me back up a little. Today I received an e-mail from a cyber-aquaintance to inform me about the success of her affiliation with a TV show that is going national. We're talking accross the country, here and from sea-to-shining-sea Do you see shades of green showing through here? Yup!

Thing is...she asked me how my plays are doing and hoped that they were being produced/presented. I'm sure she meant well but it kind of reminded me what a difficult road it is to travel to get someone to produce an unknown play by an unknown playwright with no track record whatsoever. In spite of a concentrated attempt on my part to sell my plays, the end result is inertia.

Still in spite of it all, hope springs eternal... Maybe just maybe...one day...

Tuesday, June 27, 2006

YOU LIKE ME...THE NEVER ENDING STORY: part 2....


Yesterday I was the recipient of a rejection notice for one of my plays from Jill, who has a theatre group. It never gets easier to receive them and it occurred to me that if playwrights would look deeper into the exact wording of the notices, perhaps there could be some positive comments within the replies. At least I interpreted and found a few of Jill's words as not negative and sometimes that's all we have. Right?

Today I received yet another e-mail from Jill advising me not to take offensive at her comments. Actually, I wasn't and so we continue our correspondence:

"Dear Eleanor:

I do not like to send back replies that merely say 'Not for us'. I think it is always good to communicate at a more human level, and try to convey something about my feelings regarding your script. My comments were not meant to hurt or offend you, as they seem to have done. And for this I apologize - as you say, we all have something to learn. But what I wanted to convey was the difference between the writing you have submitted and writing for the stage. And this is something you might need to think about. I did not emphasis the word "good", that is your emphasis. I think what you have written is good for television - as they need a laugh a minute. But theatre is something else.
Please try to hear what I have said without getting defensive - I am also a playwright and still, after all these years, I have something to learn about my writing, and I value the criticism that I receive.

There are no winners and losers here... no points to be scored. We're all on a journey of discovery, and feedback is always important.

Best regards,

Jill"


I focused because I prefer to see the positive upon receiving rejections, that Jill once again suggests that my play or text would be good for television since "they need a laugh a minute." This in my eyes, anyway, means that I could have...may have made her laugh! Hey - that's good!

So of course, I supplied her with the feedback she mentions:

"Hello once again, Jill,

As a playwright yourself, you know (or maybe you're lucky enough not to know) that rejection is part of playwriting. Normally, as mentioned in my e-mail, I merely update my file noting all the theatres to which my plays were submitted - and that's it. However, I was somewhat taken aback with the tone of your response, which IMHO bordered somewhat on being insulted. I never intended it to be angst-ridden or Pinter-like in story line and/or an in depth study of humanity. It is meant as pure escapist enjoyment. If you read the story through to the end you would have noted that there is some emotional conflict between the main character and a secondary character.

Giving birth to a play is like giving birth to a baby. You coddle it, heave attention and love in every word you write, attempt through trial and error to make it stage-worthy and then send it out into the world and hope for the best. Of course I'm defensive as any playwright would be about their literary offspring! As an aside there have been numerous (accent on the numerous) re-writes over the years but there comes a point where you have to stop tinkering and let it sink or swim. If it sinks - the journey was a blast but if it swims... It's that unknown factor that makes it all worthwhile.

As for the TV comment - I agree 100% with you. Given the current slate of junk being passed off as entertainment, my play in any form would be an improvement-LOLOL!

Like they say - different strokes for different folks. Please accept my good wishes in all your future endeavors and may the play of your dreams fall into your hands.

Best,

Eleanor"


Whether or not Jill wants to continue our "journey of discovery" is now in her hands. Meanwhile I'm thinking a sitcom...maybe HBO would be interested...

Monday, June 26, 2006

YOU LIKE ME! YOU REALLY LIKE ME!


Like all playwrights I regularly send out my plays (all two of them) to various theatres when the opportunity arises. The 'opportunity' could be a theatre that has attracted my attention for one reason or another, or a general call for submissions. Usually I get the usual rejection letters/notes: 'Dear Eleanor - thank you for submitting your play but...' or 'Dear Playwright. Unfortunately your play did not make the cut...' or all too often, no communication whatsoever. Be that as it may (or may not) it's all part of the process. It never gets easier.

Today I received an interesting and somewhat caustic although brief rejection note. I read and re-read the words that Jill, the send-ee, passed along:

"Dear Eleanor,

Thanks for sending blah-blah. But I'm afraid it doesn't suit us.

Play writing depends not only on witty dialogue, and a joke a minute, but also on a sense of mystery,of heightened language and moments of silence, when what is unspoken is more important that what is spoken. I feel your story is written more as a TV sitcom than as a play for the stage. For good playwriting, I would suggest that you read someone like David Mamet -

Sincerely,

Jill"

Reading and interpreting her words, I figure there must have been some merit in the play if she wrote: "playwriting depends not only on witty dialogue..." Aha! So she admits that my dialogue is witty! That's nice to know!

She goes on: "...and a joke a minute..."

O-kay! This definitely means I have a good sense of humor, something which many people have told me. Then again, there are those who have commented - a minority of course - that my content is kind-of weird...

The supreme compliment, at least for me, was: "I feel your story is written more as a TV sitcom..."

Actually, writing a TV sitcom is something I've frequently thought about and unbeknownst to Jill, she has confirmed that I should pursue this avenue!

Since I feel my self-esteem and playwriting skills were assailed, I fired off a return e-mail to her that read:

"Dear Jill...I think,

You wrote: 'For good playwriting, I would suggest that you read someone like David Mamet.'

Uh-huh...I'm assuming here that means you don't like it... Don't hold back now - tell me your real feelings.

Usually, when I get a "no - not for us" I enter the information in my "they didn't like it" file and that's it. However... Since you made a point of suggesting that I read Mamet - I figure this requires a response.

I made it very clear from my first communication with you that "Gin..." was a comedy and you have to admit it is that. So 1 point for me, here. Perhaps had I sent you a synopsis of the play you would have noted that it is light fare and obviously not for you or your group/theatre. However, in all our e-mails you made it clear that you wanted to read it, ASAP, so I obliged. Nothing ventured, nothing gained. Right? Your acrimonious e-mail response and knee-jerk reaction, however, took me by surprise. I mean - a comedy is a comedy is... I'm like...sorry that the content wasn't Mamet-like but then I never intimated it was/is. I'm a freelance writer/columnist/humorist by trade and as any editor of any publication in the world will tell you, comedy and humor is subjective... It was not and is not intended to be high drama. It IS however, pure escapist fun and that's all it was ever intended to be. Given the current state of the world these days, we all need a laugh - even you. Even Mamet.

May the force be with you and send along the play of your dreams,

Best,

Eleanor


See? There are hidden positive "messages" that all playwrights can find in those rejection letters if they would only take the time to interpret what the senders really mean!

Monday, April 17, 2006

"THE PLAY'S THE THING..."
(Hamlet (II, ii, 633)
To bid or not to bid - that is the question... or a bid, a bid, my kingdom for a bid...


MR. WILLIAM SHAKEASPEAR
FLAT "C"
STRATFORD-UPON-AVON

Dear Willy,

Thank you so much for your words of encouragement in your last letter to me. It does so do my heart good when you remind me how we playwrights must or seem to suffer in the pursuit of our craft. Sometimes - frequently - I believe "our kind" has masochistic tendencies bordering on psychosis with touches of a personality split (at least that's the diagnosis my head doctor has given me but what does he know?) but we've discussed this reality in our correspondence many times. Do you hear voices too? Sometimes I hear songs in my head... Just kidding of course.

By the way it was good to hear that Geoffrey and Priscilla asked about me at your Playwright's Night at Ye Olde Pub and Grill last Friday. Please tell them I have fond memories of our get-togethers last year. We did...get together, right? I mean, it wasn't a figment of my imagination?

You know Willy perhaps I've overlooked an idea whose time has come for we playwrights. Just today by lucky happenstance I came accross an article about a young lad who is using a red paper clip to barter what he hopes will be a roof over his head on e-Bay. In fact he has slowly but surely traded up to the point where he has been offered an apartment...so far.

Then it suddenly dawned on me: "egad Eleanor!" I said to myself. Why not put our plays up on e-Bay and open them to the highest bidder? Don't you think that would be an innovative way to promote them (the plays) and us? For example you could perhaps try your luck with that local favorite, "Much Ado About Something" for a start. Then again, perhaps at your stage having written so many you might feel it a sell out. Do you feel that way? If so, just forget the whole idea. Okay? I mean, I wouldn't want you to compromise your ideals. Of course idealas don't pay the rent. Right?

Uh-oh...the voices are calling me or perhaps it's e-Bay.

Ha-ha-ha-...snort-snort...

"They" are telling me "friends, Romans and pizza lovers. You knead some dough."

Ain't that the truth!

Please say hello to Anne and the kiddies and give them my best,

Eleanor and "friends"


Tuesday, April 04, 2006

"THE LIFE OF A PLAYWRIGHT IS ONE ANGST AFTER ANOTHER."



MR. WILLIAM SHAKEASPEAR
FLAT "C"
STRATFORD-UPON-AVON


Dear Willy,

Surely by now I should be used to receiving negative news but the truth is, it r gets easier. Mind you the producer did indicate that he found it had "a particular charm" whatever that means, but the bottom line is that it's not part of their upcoming season. According to the producer there was a fire in the theater, which caused a flood. I'm not quite sure what this had to do with my play...perhaps it got washed away... Maybe the pages got separated...

Go know! It's all speculation in the end, anyway.

Thing is, Willy, I had high hopes for that play but then don't we all? It took six whole months for them to finally reject it and I envisioned the play being read by the selection committee with everyone laughing at the right places.

"This is one of the funniest plays we've read in a long time," Mr. Big Bucks Who Funds Theaters might have commented.

"Absolutely agree, " the producer most likely jumped in, anxious to please Mr. Big Bucks in order to get funding.

"Do we know this playwright?" Mr. Big Bucks could have probed further. "I'm not familiar with her name."

"She's new on the theater scene but a very talented playwright," the producer could have responded while desperately checking my pedigree through the personal information blurb.

"Unknown, huh?" Mr. Big Bucks most likely said while shaking his head. "Perhaps we should stick with a well-known play that's been performed more than a hundred-thousand times in every major theater accross the country. You know - an instantly recognizable play."

"Yes - yes of course - you're right as usual!" the producer most likely jumped in. "Lets do go with a known play! But then don't we always?"

So there you have it, Willy. Rejection once again.

I'll try to write to you more often and perhaps some day we'll actually meet in person and sit down for a cappucino and a biscotti. Upon further thought...you probably prefer tea and a crumpet, don't you?

Do drop me a line and tell me what's happening at your end. By the way have you found a means in which to solve the costume problem regarding the female roles? I have a suggestion you may think is a bit unorthodox but perhaps consider having the male actors assume the female roles?

We live in hope, right? Meanwhile, have an ale on me. Okay? Maybe two.

Your friend in playwriting,

Eleanor

Friday, March 31, 2006

ARE WE HAVING FUN YET?



MR. WILLIAM SHAKEASPEAR
FLAT "C"
STRATFORD-UPON-AVON

Dear William,


Glad to receive your latest update, especially the good news that the Globe has decided to use one of your plays. By the way, which one did you decide to use in the end? The ghost one? I'm sort-of partial to anything supernatural. Besides, the public is very "into" this type of story line so it's a wise choice.

As for me...same old, same old. Waiting to receive news regarding the fate of some short plays I've submitted to various competitions. If memory serves me I should be hearing something within the month but then who knows! It's been my experience that no news doesn't necessarily mean good tidings although I keep telling myself it is or could be. Maybe? Hopefully? Keeping my fingers crossed, though, in addition to my toes and my eyes. A little playwriting indulgence and folly.

Of course...being the established playwright that you are and all, you no longer have to concern yourself with such trivialities. I mean, you're so well known and respected in the theatre community that just spotting your name in the pile of submitted plays puts you to the top of the list.

"Oh look!" one reader probably says to another. "It's another one from Willy Boy (I'm sure they probably have that pet name for you or something similar). Of course it will be good and we'll love it instantly but let's go through the motions. It's only fair!"

Do I sound jealous? You bet! I mean - what does it feel like, Willy, to have your play seen by real people? Don't know if I mentioned it - and let's keep it to ourselves - but and I feel so silly even writing this - I frequently use my cat Fluffy and my two dogs, Lester and Hubert, as sounding boards for my plays. Problem is it's difficult to gauge their reaction since they usually sleep through the first act. Actually, through the second act too, however they do wake for the finale when I utter their favorite word: "lunch-ies!"

What can I say, Willy? I take my audiences as I find them. Today I have a reading at the local community center with the participation of the "Ladies of Walmart South" group, some of which I've been told have acting experience. Should be quite an experience and I'll report back to you on the results.

Please give my regards to the gang down at the pub and tell them that Eleanor says 'hi'!' By the way break a leg yourself!

Yours in playwriting,

Eleanor
MR. WILLIAM SHAKEASPEAR, ESQ.
FLAT "C",
STRATFORD-UPON AVON

Dearest William,

How are things going with you? Had any new plays produced lately?

There’s good news and bad news and neutral news, depending on the interpretation. Most of my "babies" have come home to mama...again. Oh the angst of it all!

I know I should feel somewhat relieved knowing that at the very least they’re back home with their creator but there remains that nagging question: “WHY?” Since there was and seldom is commentary provided by the recipients, the reason for rejection is strictly speculation.

In discussing artistic hang-ups with fellow playwrights most were in agreement that after releasing their plays to the world, the second worst thing is the waiting period for replies that frequently don't/never arrive.

When it comes to creative anxiety, playwrights have the corner in this area. There's always this incessant concern that:

a) the play is/was drivel and the recipient will/did immediately toss it in the trash or
b) maybe it never reached its destination having dropped out of a mail bag along the way or
c) maybe the recipient liked the play but the theatre's season is filled up and they decided to keep it for a future production, and by mistake dropped it in "file thirteen" at the bottom of a trash can

A creative idea would be to include a card containing tick-off boxes along with the elusive SASE, in the hope that the director/reader/janitor will send it back:

"Dear Playwright,

This is to advise you that we have received your play and we find that:

a) your play is typed well and we like the font
b) your play had insufficient postage so we took the postage stamp off your return envelope for future use, as payment
c) your play is drivel
d) your play is so good that we are immediately staging it for a Broadway/London/wherever opening, after which it will tour the world

In any case there is still one literary baby “out there.” Where there is life there's hope.

Oh please, oh please, let there be hope! Playwrights live on those four letters!

Meanwhile, say hello to the little missus and the children.

'Til next time...

Eleanor