So I had this reading the other day. A play I had written largely so I'd have something to be read at the reading. I wasn't sure how I felt about it and so I didn't really invite too many people, which was for the best because it wasn't exactly an awe inspiring night of new works. My play seemed to go on and on, and when the hostess cut it off I thought she was doing it for time, but she had just gotten her cue wrong.
The whole play stemmed from a discussion I had with a couple friends about how it was "easy" for people like David Eggers to write autobiographical work because they've had dramatic things happen to them. I asserted that most everyone had a life that could be dramatized. I believe I have been disproven quite soundly.
I've spent a lot of time this fall on play writing in one way or another. I think its time to be done with it.
Does it seem odd to anyone else that even though I have a draft of a novel done, that I could and should be editing like mad and trying to get published, still I'm obsessed with a style of writing that I'm only thinly adequate at. Why can't I be happy with what I've got instead of pushing for something else?
Just a quiet Friday ponder.
1 comment:
I know that what I say doesn't matter- in fact, it's moo, as you aren't the type to seek external validation- but I thought your work had real potential.
On the upside, you didn't use Klingon, eliminated superfluous, idiotic characters and were actually funny.
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