"NEIGHBORS" - the play.

As is the case with many writers of all genres, there is a tendency to start projects that atrophy in cyber space over the years. Okay - clarification: this the case with this writer. I started out writing "Neighbors" as a short, cute-y play-ette a while back and decided that there was potential for a longer two-act version. The premise is, two fueding neighbors living next door to each other, is a common story line but somehow, the characters in this play seem to beg for further exploration. Who am I to refuse?

Here is a small taste of the play. As always, comments welcome. Please ignore the formatting.

NEIGHBORS

By Eleanor Tylbor

CAST OF CHARACTERS:

TAYLOR, JEFFREY, 45,

PORTMAN, ROBBIE, 47,

JENKINS, 50, next door neighbor on other side

PATTY, 40-ish, bartender

MARTINI, 60, land surveyor and friend of PORTMAN

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 tee 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 the 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 one of your liquid breakfasts, I suppose?

PORTMAN

For your information it’s 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, aren’t we?

PORTMAN

Sour is as sour does

TAYLOR

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 expressed my feelings 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? You are!

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 a new neighbor 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 for me 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 left

TAYLOR

I bet she is just that and more

PORTMAN

What d'you know about sex?

TAYLOR

Spare me your drunken rants

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 of it all?

TAYLOR

Save me from the melancholy drunk 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

I figure you must be in your mid-forties or thereabouts?

PORTMAN

Never found a position to suit my qualifications

TAYLOR

Must 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 raging one for booze. How many bottles d'ya 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 frittering 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! 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 his children and grandchildren: I-was-here!

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 be-u-tee-ful shrubs. Course I'll make sure to have that all included 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-lux-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 was you…

PORTMAN

…maybe hang some tire swings from the branches…

TAYLOR

Over my dead body!

PORTMAN

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

TAYLOR

Maybe not right now but don't count on their presence much longer. We been neighbors for how long, now?

PORTMAN

Too long for my liking

TAYLOR

Must be fifteen years at least – maybe twenty?

PORTMAN

Praise be! You're thinking of moving at last. I know some guys who'll move you real cheap. 'Course you may never see your furniture again…

TAYLOR

How come the topic of conversation between us always ends up about your so-called shrubs growing on my property? Ten 

Looking back to look forward

During my daily check-in of my various blogs, somehow this blog always makes me feel guilty. There is always a lengthy gap between updates because, basically, I'm a procrastinator. My writing is always full of big intent but then for whatever reason, it passes and rather than force a personal confrontation, it falls by the wayside.

"So what have you been doing, Eleanor?" you might be wondering.

I've finally decided on an ending to "Old Soldiers" but now I'm having doubts as to whether pursue this play, given its subject being an aging, very-old soldier who wants to make his last stand count. Although there is no violence, recent turn of events are making me think twice about its suitability.

Here we have Joe McKenna, a man who did his part for his country, saw action in WWII and now as an aging, frail veteran with a failing body, wants to make a point, a plea actually, on behalf of all vets. It's the culmination of his desire to leave his mark and an unexpected meeting with two strangers that influences the final outcome. Throughout the play, there is comic relief with the interaction of Joe and his buddies. Thing is...I love the dialogue and the premise of the play.

Having not read, "The Lemon", a 20-minute comedy play-ette I wrote a while back (why are all my plays in the "written a while back" state?) for a while, I'm attempting to turn it into a one-act play. Also planning to work on another started-but-semi-abandoned play, "Dead Writes" in which I've written three scenes.

In the way of positivity and progress, I've submitted my one act play, "Retribution" to a theatre and hoping that it will meet with an acceptance. Not saying/writing anymore about it because I'm superstitious and it could jinx the end result.

Hopefully, the next update will be sooner than later but one never can predict these things. Most likely... Maybe... Soon for sure...

BBC International Playwriting Competition for 2013???

A short blog entry (where have you read that before?).

As shared here ad nauseum, I've been making a concerted effort to finish my "Old Soldiers" play that I started three years ago. It was and still is my hope to enter it in the BBC International Radio Playwriting Competition this year. However - it's always the 'howevers' in life that get in the way - can't find any link to a 2013 version being held.

Thing is...I'm almost finished the play at last and if the competition isn't being held this year, it will be a real downer. I mean, the play could always be submitted somewhere else but this competition has always been a personal challenge for me having never written for radio. There is still the concern that there's a lack of sufficient sound effects but I was (and am still, hopefully) going to go for broke and enter.

Just came back from the competition site in the hope of seeing the new deadline listed but to no avail. This does not bode well since the deadline is usually early Spring. Oh well... I'm still determined to finish it after which I'll 'put it to bed' for a while followed by a period of tweaking and finally hitting the 'submit' key.

Meanwhile, time is marching on. Joe and his friends would understand.

IN SUBMISSION MODE - AGAIN



For whatever reason, I always... Okay. Very frequently at this time of the year, I get the urge - the need - to seek out theatres et al, which are open to new plays/playwrights. To this end, came accross a theatre group in NYC that struck my fancy or kind of stood out and passed along "Gin: An Allegory for Playing the Game of Life." Supplied a synopsis and even when adding my neophyte-ic status, they still wanted to read it. This is a good omen - one hopes.

Before submitting, I checked over the contents for spelling mistakes and flow of dialogue and made a few tweaks. Thing is - I don't have a playwriting program and submitted it as a Word attachment, not an ideal arrangement. Really, this is something that should be looked into but somehow it ends up on the back-burner. There is a program available in Word so I've read and this is something I really must pursue.

In any case, haven't heard back from them, yet. Patience isn't one of my strong points but I have to control my curiousity and wait. And wait... It`s all part of the process. Right? It would be so wonderful if the recipients would provide updates. Something to the effect:

"Dear Playwright,

We are in the process of reading your play. So far, we are enjoying the contents. We are up to scene blah-blah. Will get back to you again as we go along."

I mean, it would make playwrights lives so much more bearable!

In addition, looking for possible contacts to send my short-short plays. Really, the search never ends.