Second Meeting...

So guess what isn't good for writing a new play? Writing another new play. At least.... once again, not for me. So why is it then that the day after my brain maps out the play I'm working on for BRAT, a new one I've been struggling with the large concept for years bursts to life? Somewhere, I think my brain feels that I've solved the problem of the other one and wants a new challenge. Somewhere, I think my brain is trying to drive me mad with too many projects. And somewhere.... there's a pla-A-ce for uuuuuuussss! (Ignore what I did there.) No, somewhere I also think this is good and exciting. The point is, that it's maddening to have nothing you're excited about, to feel stuck and then to be over-whelmed. Why aren't there other feelings for writers?

And I can credit this to connecting a concept from one of the writer's who presented last night. She (d'oh, just gave it away to all the fellow group-members who aren't reading my blog) is exploring a wide concept in a play that I've always wanted to take a hack at in a very specific way, which is my way of saying I'm NOT stealing your concept. And a question my new friend (I have a new friend!) said to me as we were leaving the bar in regards to my messed up high school years: "Where's your play about that?" Which is something I've...quite frankly....never even considered.

But now I have to.

-BGD

"a good lover stays sprunned"

Time for some good old fashioned doublespeak.

When I'm writing, I'm not worried about whether something is "good". The moment I share it with someone, that's all I care about. But when writing, I know that it only has to be "right", because if it's right then it will be good, but if I try to write something good, at best it will only be precious, which may not be bad but is rarely right.... and therefore not good. Writing is never a straight line. I worry a lot when I love something I write, when I'm convinced it's good before I'm told it's good. When my ego strikes WHILE I'm writing.

I've heard argument that writing is an act of ego, but it's sharing what you've written that is the act of ego. While you think I'm splitting hairs, I'm not. Writing is a passive act to me. It's active, sure. But passive in that I'm trying to exert as little will as I can on it, discover "truth" or what I call "right", so it can be good later. It's much harder to take something I love and make it good because I already believe that the world is off its rocker and it secretly IS good and no one else knows, and by changing it I will alter what is good and... There's a lot of messy stuff there. It's much easier to look at something I thought was right and have someone else say, "that's good, but it's not quite right." Then I can dig in and make it better.

Not that it's not a blow to my ego. (see? there is ego) I handed it to you to show you what a "good" writer I am, how "good" my writing is because it's not trying to be good, only right. And you come back and say it is good, but it's not right?

Whatever.

What am I really talking about?
I wrote my first song. (well, lyrics.) And I love them.

 Oh........no.

-BGD

"I wanted to hear it out loud, feel my words in space."

Let's take a moment to talk about outlining...

Actually, let's pause and take a moment to for me to say that this is my method, there's nothing wrong with how anyone approaches their own writing. I know plenty of writers who have marvelous structure and dedication and I would be very surprised if they didn't outline. I understand that there are many virtues to it and I'm not trying to be a detractor. These are my own limited perceptions and  I know that many of the claims I make will simply be untrue... unless you are me. But I'm using this writing to help me define my process and so, let's take a moment to talk about outlining....

Or rather the way I work.

I begin (oddly enough) at what I think the beginning is as I begin. This might move, change, be eliminated, but when I conceive of a play it is almost always from the rise of the curtain. It might be a single line of dialogue, an image or a set of givens. At this point, I know very little. And so I dive in and discover. I have characters reveal themselves to me just as the audience receives them. I rarely go into the kind of writer's trance that makes me passive, but this kind of writing is less influenced by the conscious version of me and allows me to be free to question what I'm writing as I'm writing it. (I can hear my writing professors scolding me for self-editing in the generative phase...) It also allows me to be surprised. I have ideas of where I think the play will go, but I'm not sure. Often, characters will jump out and do something shocking to me.

I live for these moments.

As we go on, inklings become more solidified and I make notes and scenelets and unrelated monologues that I know will appear somewhere in the script. I take walks and think about what I've written or what is holding me back from writing more. What I want to see more of. I take showers and do the same thing. I wash dishes and do the same thing. My head gets filled with these questions constantly. I mumble to myself "Okay, so...?" like a mantra. And through spurts and stops, by re-reading messages I left on my phone's text box or the back a receipt, I piece the rest of it together.

Sometimes it's joyous, sometimes it's painful. But it is always mine.

What it gives me is a sense of spontaneity. I don't feel bound to any idea for longer than I am interested in it, I don't feel like I have to know every detail or even be able to predict at all how things will end up. Sure, in truth I ruminate much longer than an opening line or image, but I find that what I think will happen and what I end up writing about never lines up. So why invest time in an outline that will only limit me and distract me from listening to the characters?

For me, it doesn't make sense.

-BGD

"Burns everyday. Not the way your thinking though. Burns for vengeance."

Scripting to me is filled with "oh, duh" moments. These are the moments when you realize you've been ignoring something obvious the entire time. It's like being lost for hours and then remembering that you COULD just look at your map, or that actually your goal was to get lost... or, that you've secretly driven right to where you wanted to go. It's weird how much this happens.

So the working title of the play is Saloon! Which has that fun wink-wink feel to it. But really, I want something pulpier and a little more genre-feeling. The Last Plot in Revenge is the working on it title, and could well be the actual title. The main character in the play is, of course, seeking revenge, and the subplot is based around two families in a feud, (Not that kind.) and the town this all takes place is named Revenge. So...

I was interviewing folks to work as dramaturgs and music directors or composers this weekend. And beyond getting inspired by so many talked and engaged people, that were really excited to hear me ramble on about Brecht, Waits and a lot of the other inspiration I have for the script... Beyond getting stellar feedback and being torn by so many good options... (and still having a few more interviews to complete) I realized something about the play. It's a story about revenge.

Oh..... Duh.

-BGD

"No way to sleep while there’s work to be done."

Painful realization: I actually write better and with more dedication in the morning.
...........oh no.

-BGD

First meeting

I work better in a class. Maybe it's the feeling that writing assignments don't have to be 'good' they just have to be 'finished' frees me. In fact, I know that's a part of it. But there is also an immediate investment I feel for my classmates. I become so engaged in helping them work, and in honoring their time with me, that I really push myself. Several times I have seen classmates writing safe things and holding back from looking like a creep or a freak or... who knows what. That's usually when I open up with something I know will be disturbing, something that usually disturbs me and I sweat profusely while I read it. I do that so everyone will be free to write anything that comes into their head. And the strange part is, it usually works.

And my classmates have given back to me in such rich ways: wonderful critiques, inspiring words and courageous work that really pushes me to strive for more. That's why I am so thrilled to have been selected for a new writer's group. As always, when I looked around the circle at our first meeting, I thought "Oh man, do I deserve to be here?" Everyone's story was of "real" artistic work with credentials or incredible potential to back it up.

And I was there too.

I know this feeling will pass. And I know great things will come from it. For right now, I'm just grateful to be involved.

-BGD

"Fought tougher men for sure, but i can't tell you who just now."

On a bad day, I will tell people "Music is dumb." Which is not what I actually mean. I'm just angry at the rest of humanity for collectively understanding in an essential way that which I struggle with. So what I really mean is "I don't get it." And I don't.

I'm sort of alien. Or a robot. Or.... the point is I'm not quite a person because I don't get music. Insturmental music drives me up a wall because I don't know what I'm supposed to be listening to... I don't have any way to relate to it. I don't feel anything and I know all you human beings do.

And that brings us to me writing a musical.

Why on earth would I want to write one? First of all, its a tremendous challenge and that seems like a good idea. Second, it forces me to find an awesome collaborator and entrust them to a major portion of the work. And that is healthy and freeing. And finally, god forbid I learn something from my own work. Who knows maybe this will be the moment that transforms me. (Unlikely) But at any rate, growth is a kickass thing. And I expect my audience to be willing to do it, to go along on a ride that they might not always be comfortable with and to entrust me with their time. So maybe I should be willing to do that too.

Even an alien can understand that.

-BGD

"I tell you what."

a few helpful terms for when I describe how my writing is going:

grinding (v.) - the act of forced writing, either self-imposed or by others. Usually, it results in some pretty awful stuff, but it keeps writer's block to a minimum. Still, this is the kind of writing that makes it feel like work.

     ex. "I was grinding out pages today and it's all trash."

flow (n.) - the state of thoughtful writing. When I get an idea and can fluid write and quasi-edit without being overly-critical. A semi-fictional ideal.

    ex. "Where did the last two hours of my life go? I must have been in a good flow."

gushing (v.) - the opposite of grinding. Compulsive writing, writing so fast the ideas are faster than my hand. (Think arterial spray.) The only way I wrote as a teenager. Usually the kind of writing that needs heavy editing and often requires complete dismissal.

     ex. "Can't really talk now, this idea's totally gushing out."

I think I've hit a minor flow lately. And it feels really good. Having said that, I know I'll be back to grinding soon.

-BGD