I suppose that all young theater folk grow up forcing plays on other children who live in their neighborhood.  At least I did.  I wrote various plays, and sometimes musicals, that I would force other children (cousins, neighbors, kids I babysat) to star in.  I got especially angry with children who took a really long time to learn their music (“I don’t really understand why it’s hard for you to just repeat this melody back to me.  No, it isn’t changing every time I sing it!”).

The first play I wrote as a teenager was called TALK OF PLEASANT THINGS and I directed it at my high school, much to the detriment of my willingness and enthusiasm to show my face at reunions.  It was about, among other things, AIDS, alcoholism, and abandonment.

When I got to college, I wrote a play with parts for twelve actors.  Eight of these parts had about six lines apiece.  This is when I got my first lesson in “unproducability.” Rolin Jones, a phenomenal writer who mentored me through the process of writing this play, mentioned the possibility of one or two actors playing multiple roles.  I was like, “What?” and he was like, “Yeah.”

And so eight parts became two.  And the play got a lot stronger and better because of it (not that anyone will ever get to read it, see it, or even touch it).

Somehow, though, I’ve forgotten that lesson in writing this new play.  I find myself with nine characters and counting.  I’m hoping there will come a time somewhere down the line where I can whittle some of these people away, but it’s hard to write about a family without including everybody.

At least I’ve lightened up a little when picking subjects to write about.

Back to writing DEAD CHILDREN now.

My first blog post as the 2010 Playwriting Fellow and here it is.

A quick introduction perhaps?  My name is Eliza Clark, I’m a huge fan of Page 73 and I feel so incredibly lucky to be working with them this year on my play, Dead Children.   I was a member of Interstate 73 last year and every meeting felt like one step closer to being a working playwright.  In fact, I’m pretty sure one of the “notes” I gave Tommy Smith after a reading of one of his plays was, “This play is so awesome I feel like you just gave me a lesson in how to be a good writer.”  I’m not bragging about my ability to give constructive notes, but I am really good at expressing how much I love fellow writers.  This company gives me an immense amount of hope about the future of theater, and I feel like I’ve won the lottery.

I’m currently living in Los Angeles, writing for a new TV show that is going to be airing on AMC starting August 1^st.  The show is called Rubicon and it’s a conspiracy thriller in the style of those great seventies movies like Three Days of the Condor.  I’m currently in the midst of writing the first draft of Act One of Dead Children and simultaneously working on the first draft of Episode Seven of the show.

I’ve never actually written two things simultaneously, and I’ve never ever written for television, so this process has been illuminating to say the least.  For me, the process of writing involves a lot of self-loathing, procrastination, and sadness, followed eventually by fulfillment, elation, and treats (including but not limited to cupcakes).  I’m currently experiencing some of the restless sadness that comes with beginning a new play – I’m still getting to know these characters, and I’m letting them breathe and talk a little too much.  The pages I do have favor certain characters more than others (those I have a better handle on), so much so that the play has a bit of a limp.  I have a feeling that the first draft might be eight hundred pages before I whittle it down to a slim ninety.

Perhaps playwrights should never blog.  I promise to try not to use this blog as a veiled message to those who will be reading my early pages to go easy on me.  Though, if they choose to see it that way, I won’t be disappointed.  Next Tuesday will be the first time that Asher and Liz see pages of Dead Children, and I hope they will be able to see the early kernels of a play amongst the wreckage of my broad strokes ideas.  I’m starting to see a play in here somewhere, which is encouraging.  Even more encouraging is the deadline I’m working toward, and the people on the other side of the country who keep me tethered to the theater while I’m swimming through television’s waters.

JASON GROTE                              LAURA JACQMIN

Jason Grote, the 2006 Playwriting Fellow here at Page 73 and playwright of 1001 which P73 produced in the fall of ’07, and Laura Jacqmin, a semi-finalist for the Playwriting Fellowship in 2008 and a finalist for the same program in 2009, have been selected to participate in the Governors Island component of the Sundance Labs!

The Governors Island Lab is the first non-residency program associated with the Sundance Lab, making it a very unique and exciting experience – artist retreat by day, and the comfort of home by night.

The Governor’s Island Labs run May 23 – June 6. For a synopsis of Jason Grote’s Civilization and Laura Jacqmin’s Look, We Are Breathing please check out the full article on Playbill.com or visit www.Sundance.org/Theatre.

We’re so proud of these two amazing artists and very excited to see what wonderful work they create with this exciting opportunity!

First, congrats to Eli Clark.  We’re so excited to be working with her this year.  It’s going to be an amazing year.

Second, much Internet-noise on an article in the Times today about Todd London’s book Outrageous Fortune.  We haven’t read it it — the article will certainly increase sales (I hope, for Todd’s sake).   The article links to a review of the book by the theater critic Chris Jones; the most interesting part of the review is the online commentary that it has solicited.  On the whole, Jones’s review doesn’t seem very thoughtful or helpful (we can’t really judge, though, since we haven’t read Outrageous Fortune yet).   There’s much to say — and much that has been said — about making a living as a playwright.  Sadly, it’s virtually impossible — any playwright (established and emerging) can tell you that.    The truth, though, is that this reality applies pretty much across the board in the non-profit theater world.  Actors, directors and administrators, for the most part, have a tough time making ends meet financially.  The theater business model (from a non-profit perspective — we can’t really speak to about the one in respect of commercial theater) is one that makes little sense today (at least when you’re working in this sector in NYC).  Or has it ever made sense?  We’re non-profit.  I have friends who work for other non-profit (non-theater related) organizations and they face similar financial conundrums; they can’t work in their field *and* live in New York without taking on freelance jobs.  So maybe this issue (the one re: making a livable wage) applies to non-profit industries, as a whole.  That’s not to diminish the argument that one can’t make a living from playwriting and that the system needs to be reformed to support these writers and to prevent these writers from running off to L.A. or law school or business school, etc.

David Adjmi posted a link to the Times article today and Jason Grote provided a very funny/sad  response.  It reads:

“…Staffs usually aren’t paid very well, but artistic directors at the bigger institutions often have ridiculously huge salaries commensurate to those organizations’ budgets. Just like most other corporations, nonprofits, and universities in this goddamn country.

And in terms of audience appeal: does Eustis really think that anyone wants to see anything Suzan-Lori Parks has written in the past decade? What no one is acknowledging is that “bad plays” are often the result of tacking on a big name to sell tickets and ignoring artistic merit. Risky, “unknown” playwrights often do the best work because they still actually care about what they’re doing.

But I agree that we playwrights should stop whining. I think we should quit. Or, more precisely, I think I should quit — I wouldn’t presume to tell anyone else what to do. But I’m definitely ready to join 99% of the rest of the country in not giving a shit about theater.”

Uhm.  Yes.  It’s been long.  The end of the calendar year was kind of nuts.  We’re back, I think.

Also, tomorrow we announce the 2010 P73 Playwriting Fellow.  (Got it, Mom?  At this point, she’s the only one checking the blog.  Hah.)

And happy 2010 to all!

• Take a listen to this great podcast with an interview of  Heidi.  The podcast was produced by Courtney Beam and Eric Winick at Playwrights Horizons.  It’s really terrific.  Quite the Aural Experience.

\”Heidi Schreck on Life\”

That’s what we want to know.  Who is this Heidi Schreck?

Here’s one answer:

There’s a nice interview of Heidi on Adam Symkowicz’s blog.   That picture of Heidi makes us laugh.