Waiting and waiting.... Been there, experienced that, etc.

Hate to see a straight line indicating nobody has dropped by my playwriting blog, as is the case presently. Actually, this is applicable to all my blogs. As writers, the purpose of sharing our thoughts via a blog is to reach the public in the hope that something we have written will strike their fancy, or like the contents enough to read it to the end. A straight line means nobody finds the blog worthwhile enough to drop by. Don't like straight lines but it goes as it goes. You win some - you lose some. Anyway...

It's Friday night and I'm watching "Shark Tank", one of my favorite TV programs, while adding content to this blog. Right now all the sharks are in a bidding war for a food product with offers of $100,000 to sweeten the deal. This makes one - me - wonder how much a play is worth. It would be dependent upon whether or not its produced and how favorably the public reacts in money values. But I digress.

Me? I'm still sending out my plays and short play-ettes here, there and everywhere hoping to hit pay-dirt. Wish I could report some progress but alas and alack, it's still a waiting game. Have to confess that I've been hesitant to enter my ten-minute plays in competitions where a submission fee is required - reading fee as it is frequently called - with no financial compensation offered upon acceptance and performance. It's nice to think that our time writing the play, be it a short one, is worth a token payment. Any feedback on this?

Came across a theatre recently that was holding a competition for full 2-act plays but only snail-mail-in submissions were acceptable. There is a part of me that understands their rationale since having to print up potentially usable plays costs money and most theatres are short of funds these days. If this is the case and at least in my mind, it would be easier to read plays submitted electronically and delete those that are unsuitable, no? On a personal note my plays have been edited so many times that printing each updated copy would cost a fortune, and then there's the postage...

Amazing how easy it is to come up with complaints about how unfair the system is. I mean, who else you gonna blame? Oneself? Neh...

Right now two males have entered the shark tank with a product that they feel is worth a million dollars and there's a bidding war with all the sharks involved. maybe Mr. Wonderful, Damond, Mark, Lori, Barbara or Robert might want to produce some really great plays.

BACK IN THE PLAYWRITING SADDLE AGAIN

It appears that once bitten by the playwriting bug, it's an itch that no amount of scratching can quell. What I'm trying to express in my loquacious fashion is that I've decided to submit my plays, again. Not that I didn't before but there has been a noticeable gap that has nagged at my conscience.

I've already taken steps to move things along and submitted one of my short plays in a competition. Don't want to talk/write about it because like many people of our ilk, I'm superstitious, but it's one of my more recent attempts. Additionally, I'm going to enter the BBC International Playwriting Competition if I can convert one of my stories into a radio play. I've got a good half-year to do it but it's still a difficult task.

I've also decided to edit (again!)my full two-act plays and make a real push and effort to get them produced. Not that I didn't before but not to the degree I should have because I feared and still fear rejection. The plays, actually I'm focusing on one in particular, "Make Me a Wedding!" a comedy and the first play I wrote, requires a thorough going-over to see if it still makes me laugh as it did in the past. More importantly, though, looking at it through the eyes of outsiders and evaluating whether it will make them laugh.

In addition, I will post regular updates in this blog and share my findings along with pieces of dialogue for feedback if anyone feels like jumping in. Feel free to do so and it would be much appreciated.

Meanwhile, Morty and Saydie are calling me to help out in the planning of the wedding. As if I'd refuse.