of Interest

Reprinted with permission from the Dramatists Guild E-Newsletter From the Desk of Gary Garrison BLOCKED, BETTER KNOWN AS BRICKED I don’t think this is particularly profound or even necessarily true for everyone, but this whole notion of writer’s block is a simple reaction to too many bricks on the head. Let me explain. Imagine every time someone has injured you about your art, it takes on the weight of a brick on your head. When your girlfriend fell asleep during the reading of your play, a brick landed on your head. When your father asked you when you were going to get a real job and stop playing “writer,” two bricks plopped on your head. When your director didn’t acknowledge you to any of his friends at the end of the evening, another brick was added to the pile. When your husband, wife or partner gave you that disapproving look of “Again?!” as you headed out the door to rehearsal, five bricks piled on top. After so many years in the theatre (or maybe just one really bad week/month/year), you’re carrying around a lot of weight up there. Who can write with that kind of weight on their brain? More importantly, why write at all, you might ask yourself? Why spend the time, energy and exertion of passion if you get nothing back but a heavy weight on your head or one in your soul? Why, indeed? Because you have to – it’s who you are. Because we need to hear your stories – that’s who we are as a culture. We desperately need to hear your stories. We need your guidance, wisdom, advice and even folly. We need to laugh and forget a few miserable things. We need you to write. How then to solve the problem? How can you pull yourself to the typewriter or computer when it just feels so friggin’ harmful sometimes? Well, you might think I’m crazy (and believe me, there’s a long line behind you), but I’m a firm believer in righting an old wrong. My friends can vouch for the two a.m. phone calls from me wherein I start the conversation with, “Do you remember when you saw that play of mine in Detroit, and you never said a word about it? Well, that hurt. It still hurts. And I want you to know, as my friend, I expect better of you.” I know, I know. It takes a lot of strength and courage to do things like that. And people aren’t always responsive to you drudging up an old painful memory. But it’s worth a shot, no? It’s worth resolving, all these years later, the rage and anger you’ve felt for your playwriting teacher who was so unkind and insensitive to you as a struggling, vulnerable artist. It’s worth resolving the sadness you feel about your best friend’s lack of sensitivity to who and what you are, isn’t it? It’s worth your art, isn’t it? It is. By the way, it’s occurred to me that maybe one of you has a call to make – to me. And if one of you calls me to tell me some way I’ve injured you, I’ll listen to you carefully, ask your forgiveness and hope that I never make that mistake again. It’s what we can do for each other. So go on. Try it. Start taking the bricks off your head, one by one. Gary ggarrison at dramatistsguild.com

How to

This is a plug for my friend Jodi's very funny yet informative book, How To Eat Like a Hot Chick now available here

selling guns to those found to be mentally deranged

thanks to Freeman

http://matthewfreeman.blogspot.com/2007/04/student-arrested-for-writing-essay.html

for this New Yorker article

http://www.newyorker.com/talk/comment/2007/04/30/070430taco_talk_gopnik

"Reducing the number of guns available to crazy people
will neither relieve them of their insanity nor stop
them from killing. Making it more difficult to buy
guns that kill people is, however, a rational way to
reduce the number of people killed by guns. Nations
with tight gun laws have, on the whole, less gun
violence; countries with somewhat restrictive gun laws
have some gun violence; countries with essentially no
gun laws have a lot of gun violence."

and

"Semi-automatic Glocks and Walthers, Cho's weapons,
are for killing people. They are not made for hunting,
and it's not easy to protect yourself with them. (If
having a loaded semi-automatic on hand kept you safe,
cops would not be shot as often as they are.)"

farm bill

http://www.nytimes.com/2007/04/22/magazine/22wwlnlede.t.html?em&ex=1177819200&en=012aaa4af05f033c&ei=5087%0A

"A public-health researcher from Mars might
legitimately wonder why a nation faced with what its
surgeon general has called "an epidemic" of obesity
would at the same time be in the business of
subsidizing the production of high-fructose corn
syrup. But such is the perversity of the farm bill:
the nation's agricultural policies operate at
cross-purposes with its public-health objectives. "

our lord and saviour

Jesus's blog (from daisey)

http://www.jesuschristscoolblog.blogspot.com/

new scene from Temporary Everything

a first draft as always

FIFTEEN

(BRIAN is dressing in all black in his apartment.
TODD watches)

TODD
Brian. Brian. Brian. Brian. Brian. Can you hear
me? Brian. Brian. Brian. Brian.

BRIAN
Todd.

TODD
Oh, good.

BRIAN
What do you want?

TODD
Nothing. (Pause) Brian? Brian. Brian. Brian.
Brian.

BRIAN
What?

TODD
You told her about me didn't you?

BRIAN
Umm…

TODD
Didn't you?

BRIAN
Yes.

TODD
Well, did it get you laid?

BRIAN
No, Todd it's not like that.

TODD
What a waste.

BRIAN
I guess so. I didn't really think about it. She's
been having a lot of inappropriate sex. I don't want
to contribute to that or anything.

TODD
Oh. OK. Is sex with you automatically inappropriate
or do you do something particularly inappropriate like
during it.

BRIAN
Umm . . . neither . . . I just . . . what do you want?

TODD
Where are you going?

BRIAN
I have to go to work.

TODD
It's nighttime.

BRIAN
I need to help Miranda stop capitalism.

(He puts a ski mask on and then lifts it back up so
his face can be seen.)

TODD
Oh. Oh, well then. That explains it I guess. Oh,
OK. Well, good luck with that. I'll stay here if
that's OK.

BRIAN
That's fine.

TODD
Good.

(TODD stares at BRIAN.)

BRIAN
What?

TODD
She made you crazy.

BRIAN
No, she didn't.

TODD
That's what women do.

BRIAN
That's just not true.

TODD
Just tell me this. Should I be worried?

BRIAN
Should you be—

TODD
Should I be worried?

BRIAN
Look at me. You need to let me go.

TODD
What?

BRIAN
Release me. Release me.

(They stare at each other. BRIAN pulls down the
facemask and exits.)