First, a literal portrait of the writer.

Now the essay.

Writing for the theatre isn’t very easy.  It requires a writer to please a number of people that he wouldn’t have to think about if he was just writing for publication, his words never memorized and pronounced aloud.  There are obvious targets of course, the audience itself, for instance. It makes sense that you need to please, entertain, or move the people who paid money to come see whatever the show is that you’re trying to produce. But then there are the behind the scenes (and some quite out in front of the scenes) groups that the author also has to reach and affect. Firstly the producer, the person in charge of whether or not the play (or musical) even gets made, must be catered to. So the author must know the personal whims and fancies of this one particular person and make sure those whims are attended to.  Secondly, the author must please the director of the piece, should he already be decided when the writing is happening. Finally the writer (sometimes) must write for a specific set of actors and actresses, catering to their talents, skills, and preferences.  It is important, no matter how challenging it might be, to look at such difficulties in perspective. To look for opportunities in your challenges as a writer, to see that something hard, like writing a piece for a live audience, offers opportunities to grow as a writer even if you must commit that most difficult of writing acts; asking for help.

At George Mason High School, nestled snuggly in the bosom of Northern Virginia, the International Baccalaureate program, a multinational “prestigious” High School diploma producing organization, is known as “I B.S.” The discerning reader can probably guess what “B.S.” stands for in this context. We called it that because to pass most of the classes, and get the actual diploma itself, you had to write an inordinate amount of papers, usually about a shaky topic that you weren’t really interested in to begin with. So when we received the IB required assignment to devise a piece in Theatre, it was met with a little less than usual groaning, but with all of the usual expectations as to what was going to go into crafting in the work. Some of the class was excited about the work, but most, including myself, were apathetic and very ready to be done with High School.

I studied my classmate Sophie as she started to work on the project. Her eyes were darting around and a faint smile came over her cracked lips. Her hands fluttered everywhere even as her arms seemed barely to move in her oversize (unseasonable) red sweater. She seemed to be doing quite a lot, but not really accomplishing anything, taking things out of her bag, putting them back in, projecting at uninterested juniors in the class, and calling dibs on who she wanted for her play. It was all part of her process. She was the go-getter in our class, the one who was really passionate about theatre, and who actually planned to make a career out of the art.  We all viewed her as an expert, although whether that was deserved or not, could be very well called into question.

As I sat on a hard wooden bench (it was a theatre classroom, regular chairs were few and far between) I realized that even in her nonsensical frenzy, Sophie was accomplishing something, and that time was passing me by.  This tended not to bother me so much in high school. But for once I decided to put my nose to the grindstone and work a little.  Problem was I was coming up blank. I needed to think of a topic before I could even consider writing about one. Now I’m not a particularly imaginative soul, so this was a real struggle for me, but I did know a few things for certain. I wanted the show to be a comedy. I find that in a twenty minute time limit (which this assignment had) it is much easier to get the audience to connect through laughter, than through some deeper emotion. It frees up a lot of time, as characters don’t really need to be “full” or “fleshed out” they can be almost caricatures, stereotypes acting out established bits, and this will be just fine for audiences. They know what to expect, and like it, they find it comfortable. That part isn’t so hard, but writing for comedy can be. Especially when the material is given to amateurs. So I decided to take that “warm and familiar route” and really ramp it up to the next level.

A prison comedy would go over well I thought. People loved “Orange is the New Black” and I’d recently watched “48 Hours” with my dad, which while it isn’t a prison comedy per se, there are comedic prison scenes in it. So that’s what I decided to do. I thought I’d focus on a man’s first few months in prison, how it affected his relationships on the outside, and the new friends (and enemies) that he’d make on the inside. I figured I’d make it a (much) lighter “Orange is the New Black”, with a masculine focus and a less annoying lead character.

Or at least a slightly less annoying lead character, I was severely limited in my casting choices. The thing was, while I’d been sitting around, contemplating my navel, the go getters (read: high school students with an average degree of motivation) had already been picking out actors. And it wasn’t like this assignment came out of the blue, some of them had even begun the writing process, and had solid ideas, in addition to pre casting their shows. The results of this were twofold: Result Number One; I was behind before I’d even started, and Result Number Two; when I reached the casting stage of the process I was left with the picked over dregs of the theatre class. Those who just came for an easy A, and didn’t really put their heart and soul into it.

Luckily I got along with these people, as I was almost one of them. I was passionate about theatre, but just generally lazy, so we spoke each other’s language. At first I was a little nervous about this. We might get along too well and not get any work done, conversely if I did ever get my act together, and assign them lines to learn, I had no confidence that in fact they would. My band of misfits were all juniors in the class, and they were all but one male. First was Alfonso: a lanky African American boy with a devil may care attitude, an excess of energy, but only at the wrong times, and a great sense of fashion. He was handsome and drove the girls of the class a little crazy. Next up was Nick. Nick was a goofy football player with a bit of a drawl, and no motivation, he had cherubic cheeks, which always gave his character a softer edge, even when playing the bad guy in the shows (which he did fairly frequently, due to his size and muscular frame). Then there was Kevin. Kevin was to be the star of my show. He was motivated, but he hadn’t been picked up by any of the other writer directors because he didn’t really fit their “swoony hero” mold. He was nerdy, and nerdy looking, always wearing striped sweaters, and glasses; trying to look hip, but not quite getting there. Dark haired thin and pale, he was the perfect protagonist for my show. He had the biggest acting chops of the bunch and was passionate about the work. He also thought I was cool, which made me like him more, but didn’t really speak to his judgment. Bringing up the rear, and a late addition at that, was Emma Graig. She was a miniature human being, very fashionable, and very sassy. She was initially intended to be the love interest in the script, but was eventually recast as a large black man.

Starting was rough. I got through the opening monologue, and thought that it was alright. I showed it to Kevin, who would be performing it, and he agreed, he said he liked it a lot. But then something I didn’t expect happened; he offered advice. He thought of lines his character could say later in the script, of funny scenarios that could occur. He was inspired by my work, and I was in turn inspired by his advice. I had just gotten help from a class mate, unsolicited though it may have been, and it made my writing process that much easier, or at least it promised to.

So now I knew my team, I had an idea, and I had some advice.  Sadly that was all I had. But I for once had other people depending on me, so I was determined to sit down and slug out a script. With Kevin’s wishes and advice in my head, I pored over my ancient MacBook for hours at a time, occasionally trying to write something, but mostly just straining my eyes over Facebook, Reddit, and whatever TV show I was bingeing on at the time. (Pro Tip: True Detective isn’t light watching material you can just hop in and out of, I would not recommend starting it in the middle of a project) I was getting nowhere. In fact I briefly backslid and started working on a completely different show about how the college application process makes you a homicidal maniac.  Eventually came to my senses and started once again to work on “Quentin Goes to Jail”, knowing that at least Kevin believed in it, and that if he was interested and invested, I needed to put out a script for him. Even if it was only him.

I just continued to slam my head into a wall of writing, with the due date fast approaching, and no script to give my actors. I was swamped and stressed. I was smothering in a wet heavy blanket of work, with no hope of satisfactory conclusion. I explained this all to my friend Sophie as we rolled along the shady suburban streets of Falls Church, VA. She asked me what I did have, and I told her. She hemmed and hawed over my use of profanity and base humor, but then she too helped me! She gave me ideas as to how to better utilize my actors, prompting a major rewrite of what I had, as well as a couple pages of brand new material. Sophie was a life saver. Especially as I now realized what I had to do. I needed to ask for help, I needed to collaborate. It turned out I’m a social writer, I get a huge benefit from talking about my ideas with others, and it often makes me feel more positive about the act of writing itself.

The final step was yet to be taken. The most daunting task I’d yet to face, and yet one that I knew would be supremely beneficial. I had to go to my teacher; Mr. Northrip. Mr. Northrip looked like Yurtle the Turtle, was a failed actor and a struggling writer. This being considered, he was still a hell of a lot more successful at theatre than I was, and I was still wrestling with this show. So I emailed him. He did not respond promptly, but when he did his advice was meaningful and valuable.

The hardest part about writing this show was realizing the resources I had available and taking advantage of them. I pondered long and hard about the things I ought to do, and it felt like I was banging my head into a brick wall. When I finally opened up to my classmates and asked for help, that’s when things finally got moving, I pleased everyone I needed to please, and got the assignment done.