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1100 Playwright Interviews

1100 Playwright Interviews A Sean Abley Rob Ackerman E.E. Adams Johnna Adams Liz Duffy Adams Tony Adams David Adjmi Keith Josef Adkins Nicc...

May 24, 2010

I Interview Playwrights Part 177: Michael Mitnick



Michael Mitnick

Hometown: Pittsburgh

Current Town: Brooklyn

Q:  You have a play coming up with Studio 42 in June. Can you tell me about that?

A:  The title is: “SPACEBAR: A BROADWAY PLAY BY KYLE SUGARMAN”

It’s about a disgruntled 16-year-old boy named Kyle from Fort Collins who has written a 259-page play set 7,000 years in the future – SPACEBAR (which is not about the space key on the keyboard, but is, instead, about a bar in outer space). He knows in his heart that it is the best play ever written. And he won’t stop submitting copies to Broadway until he hits it big.

We move in-and-out of Kyle’s real life, his imagination, and the play-within-the-play. It’s a satire on the current state of American non-profit and commercial theatre. It’s also about how loss affects children and about the universal need to be taken seriously when you’re a teenager.

Q:  What else are you working on?

A:  In July there’s a workshop at the Kennedy Center of my play SEX LIVES OF OUR PARENTS, which is about all the things our parents will never tell us under any circumstances which are mostly the things we wouldn’t want to hear anyway.

In August there’s going to be a developmental production in California of a new indie-rock musical I co-wrote with Kim Rosenstock and Will Connolly. It’s about to be announced.

Also, Simon Rich and I just finished the first draft of a musical for tweens called PENCILS DOWN. It’s about the awkward, humiliating cruelty / beauty that is high school.

Q:  Tell me, if you will, a story from your childhood that explains who you are as a writer or as a person.

A:  I wanted to be a professional magician all the way up until I was 15. This pretty much explains why I turned out the way I turned out.

Q:  If you could change one thing about theater, what would it be?

A:  SPACEBAR goes too deeply into this question. I mostly wish theater tickets cost the same as movie tickets.

Q:  Who are or were your theatrical heroes?

A:  At the moment (and in no order): Stephen Sondheim, Caryl Churchill, Paula Vogel, Kaufman & Hart, August Wilson, Tennessee Williams, Richard Nelson, John Guare, Frank Loesser, Richard Greenberg, Henrik Ibsen, Adam Guettel, Nicky Silver, Ken Prestininzi, Gregory Mosher, Hal Prince, Naomi Wallace, Ahrens & Flaherty, Peter Shaffer, Michael Korie, Wallace Shawn

Q:  What kind of theater excites you?

A:  Theater that isn’t boring or unintentionally confusing

Q:  What advice do you have for playwrights just starting out?

A:  Write a lot

Q:  Plugs, please:

A:  Come see SPACEBAR @ Studio 42. There may be anti-gravity. There will be free drinks.

May 23, 2010

I Interview Playwrights Part 176: Jordan Seavey


Jordan Seavey
Hometown: Brooklyn, NY

Current Town: Brooklyn, NY

Q:  Tell me about the play you're doing a reading of at Rattlestick.

A:  My play THE TRUTH WILL OUT is having a reading this Sunday (tomorrow, as of this writing) at Rattlestick. It's a "100% non-fiction anti-fantasia" about a closeted celebrity cable news journalist and an out 15 year old who's the victim of a hate crime (inspired by the murder of Lawrence King in 2008), and how their stories intersect. I think it's sort of gotten this reputation, in a way, for being a bit "epic" and challenging due to it's subject matter, themes, and bulk. It also has a tricky tone to balance, I think, and there's one actor who plays eight roles, including a fifteen year old girl and Edward R. Murrow. If something isn't challenging, I'm not really into it frankly. And I do pack my plays with a lot -- a lot of thoughts and ideas, characters, times, scenes -- I tend toward episodic structures, and TTWO in particular jumps around a lot chronologically. I don't enjoy safe theatre so I attempt not to make safe theatre. It's our job to remind theatres that challenge is good! Anyway, it's received development at the Old Vic in London (which was fun and fascinating), the New York Theatre Workshop (awesome), the hotINK Festival (which I highly recommend all playwrights apply to -- great, great people there), and Orlando Shakespeare's new play festival, Playfest (which was incredible in that I watched a non-NYC-based audience respond unbelievably strongly to the piece). And was a finalist for the O'Neill's National Playwrights Conference this year. Soooo. I guess you could say it's been making the reading rounds. I'm hoping workshop and production will follow.

Q:  What else are you working on?

A:  I am also co-artistic director of the theatre company CollaborationTown. We've been in rehearsals workshopping a new play called THE PLAY ABOUT MY DAD by another company member, fantastically gifted playwright/performer Boo Killebrew. And then we'll be developing and mounting (in NYC Fringe this August) a piece we began co-creating at Robert Wilson's Watermill Center in February. It's a comedic, collage-like look at The Momentum, a fictional self-help movement inspired by The Secret and also Abraham Hicks -- if you don't know them, look them up -- it's some pretty crazy shit.) Self-help is a nearly 10 billion dollar industry in America right now, so we're going to taking a look into the why's and wherefore's of that.

Q:  Tell me, if you will, a story from your childhood that explains who you are as a writer or as a person.

A:  I grew up watching my mother perform. She was a professional clown, Ringling Brothers trained, and an actress/singer prior to that. And mime...she actually has a Fulbright in mime, which she used to study with Marcel Marceau's teacher in Paris. I think this sort of explains a lot. Everything? Hahaha. I also became obsessed with the movie JAWS when I was 4, and watched a lot of horror films and Stanley Kubrick growing up. Yeah.

Q:  If you could change one thing about theater, what would it be?

A:  Larger non-profit theatre companies' fear of risky plays. Semi-related note: Great article in this week's Village Voice about New York needing to cherish its artists. http://www.villagevoice.com/2010-05-18/theater/welcome-to-nyc-s-hidden-golden-age-of-theater/

Q:  Who are or were your theatrical heroes?

A:  Caryl Churchill and Robert Wilson come immediately to mind -- she's just such a brilliant writer (I wrote her a love letter while studying abroad in London and as I write this am looking at the framed note she wrote back), and he's so unafraid of theatricality and insane choices and fucking with time and what time is in a theatrical space. But I also love Ludlam and Albee and Durang and Vogel...maybe I'm a little all over.

Q:  What kind of theater excites you?

A:  Dark and funny theatre about unfunny things. Preferably things that are pertinent to us as a society right NOW and/or things that are personally pertinent to the artist(s) creating the work.

Q:  What advice do you have for playwrights just starting out?

A:  Oh boy. Hm. If something makes you angry or scared, write about it.

Q:  Plugs, please:

A:   www.collaborationtown.org, and if you're in NYC and this gets published in time, come to THE TRUTH WILL OUT at Rattlestick tomorrow!

May 22, 2010

175 Playwrights

Andrew Rosendorf 

Don Nigro 

Barton Bishop

Peter Parnell 

Gary Sunshine

Emily DeVoti

Kenny Finkle 

Kate Moira Ryan

Sam Hunter 

Johnna Adams

Katharine Clark Gray

Laura Eason

David Caudle 

Jacqueline Goldfinger

Christopher Chen

Craig Pospisil

Jessica Provenz 

Deron Bos

Sarah Sander

Zakiyyah Alexander

Kate E. Ryan 

Susan Bernfield

Karla Jennings

Jami Brandli

Kenneth Lin

Heidi Darchuk

Kathleen Warnock

Beau Willimon

Greg Keller

Les Hunter

Anton Dudley

Aaron Carter

Jerrod Bogard

Emily Schwend

Courtney Baron

Craig  "muMs" Grant

Amy Herzog

Stacey Luftig

Vincent Delaney

Kathryn Walat

Paul Mullin



Derek Ahonen

Francine Volpe

Julie Marie  Myatt

Lauren Yee

Richard Martin Hirsch

Ed Cardona, Jr.

Terence Anthony

Alena Smith

Gabriel Jason Dean

Sharr White

Michael Lew

Craig Wright

Laura Jacqmin

Stanton Wood

Jamie Pachino

Boo Killebrew

Daniel Reitz

Alan Berks

Erik Ehn

Krista Knight

Steve Yockey

Desi Moreno-Penson

Andrea Stolowitz

Clay McLeod Chapman

Kelly Younger

Lisa Dillman

Ellen Margolis

Claire Willett

Lucy Alibar

Nick Jones

Dylan Dawson

Pia Wilson

Theresa Rebeck

Me

Arlene Hutton

Jorge Ignacio Cortiñas 

Lucas Hnath

Enrique Urueta

Tarell Alvin McCraney

Anne Washburn 

Julia Jarcho

Lisa D'Amour

Rajiv Joseph

Carly Mensch

Marielle Heller

Larry Kunofsky

Edith Freni

Tommy Smith 

Jeremy Kareken 

Rob Handel

Stephen Adly Guirgis

Kara Manning 

Libby Emmons

Adam Bock 

Lin-Manuel Miranda

Liz Duffy Adams

Winter Miller

Jenny Schwartz

Kristen Palmer

Patrick Gabridge 

Mike Batistick  

Mariah MacCarthy

Jay Bernzweig  

Gina Gionfriddo

Darren Canady

Alejandro Morales

Ann Marie Healy

Christopher Shinn

Sam Forman 

Erin Courtney

Gary Winter

J. Holtham

Caridad Svich

Samuel Brett Williams

Trista Baldwin

Mat Smart

Bathsheba Doran

August Schulenburg

Jeff Lewonczyk

Rehana Mirza

Peter Sinn Nachtrieb

David Johnston

Dan Dietz

Mark Schultz

Lucy Thurber

George Brant

Brooke Berman

Julia Jordan

Joshua Conkel

Kyle Jarrow

Christina Ham

Rachel Axler

Laura Lynn MacDonald

Steve Patterson

Erin Browne

Annie Baker

Crystal Skillman

Blair Singer

Daniel Goldfarb

Heidi Schreck

Itamar Moses

EM Lewis

Bekah Brunstetter

Mac Rogers

Cusi Cram

Michael Puzzo

Megan Mostyn-Brown

Andrea Ciannavei

Sarah Gubbins

Kim Rosenstock

Tim Braun

Rachel Shukert

Kristoffer Diaz

Jason Grote

Dan Trujillo

Marisa Wegrzyn

Ken Urban

Callie Kimball

Deborah Stein

Qui Nguyen

Victoria Stewart

Malachy Walsh

Jessica Dickey

Kara Lee Corthron

Zayd Dohrn

Madeleine George

Sheila Callaghan

Daniel Talbott

David Adjmi

Dominic Orlando

Matthew Freeman

Anna Ziegler

James Comtois

I Interview Playwrights Part 175: Andrew Rosendorf


Andrew Rosendorf

Hometown: McLean, VA.

Current Town: West Palm Beach, FL.

Q:  Word on the street is you have a play at Florida Stage in the fall. Tell me about that.

A:  That street is all about getting the word out. I have to be careful what I tell it.

Last May, Florida Stage commissioned me to examine the water shortage in South Florida. I’m not from Florida so I knew very little about its history. Essentially, I had to go from being an ignorant American to someone who understands the complexity of the political and environmental issues that face Florida, the United States, and the world. The result is Cane – a play that examines how a state that was once drowning in water is now so dry. If I’ve done my job, the issues all take a backseat to a very specific human story i.e. no talking heads. And, I’m using Florida as a microcosm for the issues involving water that are currently facing the world.

Q:  What else are you working on?

A:  There are a few things I’ve been kicking around at various stages. I’ve worked at a sleep-away summer camp for more than half my life, so I (like many) have a camp play in me. I do feel summer camp has been romanticized while the truth of the situation gets lost. I’m getting close to being finally able to write my version.

I’ve also become fascinated by social media. I’m interested in how it affects the way we now are touching one another. Is it bringing us closer together or actually isolating us further?

Lastly, I’m bandying about a short film that I haven’t found the right way to describe yet. It has to do with how we derive pleasure from pain...I know how that sounds... It scares me...on many levels...why I feel I have to write this...

Q:  Tell me, if you will, a story from your childhood that explains who you are as a writer or as a person.

A:  Oh man. My childhood. Does that mean I can no longer claim that I’m a child? You know, I’ll share this because I think it is my way of answering this question: I don’t remember much of my childhood. I had thought that this was common for most people, but only within the last five years have I learned that it’s not. I remember images or get flashes of moments when I see something or hear something or smell something that reminds me of a moment, but as quickly as it appeared it disappears. I think this inherently influences – consciously & subconsciously – why writing was the way I had to go.

Q:  If you could change one thing about theater, what would it be?

A:  The worry of producibility. I understand it. I get it. I wish it wasn’t there.

Q:  Who are or were your theatrical heroes?

A:  This is going to be an uncreative list: Arthur Miller, Eugene Ionesco, Edward Albee, Tennessee Williams, Eugene O’Neill, Samuel Beckett, Sarah Kane, Tony Kushner, Sarah Ruhl, & Aaron Sorkin

Q:  What kind of theater excites you?

A:  Playwrights that have a handle on their story and find the best theatrical way to tell it. Knowing that the story could be told no other way. That the structure is influenced by the story. And theater that uses everything at its disposal – not for spectacle but because it’s in support of the emotion.

Q:  What advice do you have for playwrights just starting out?

A:  Two things. The first is to emotionally risk in your work. When this was first told to me, it seemed as if I was stupid. Why hadn’t I figured that out? The more vulnerable you are in your writing the more it will connect with an audience. The more it will set your writing apart.

The other is not to preplan. Do your character work. Know what you want to explore. Research when you need. Have some plot ideas and signposts. But as soon as you start writing trust the subconscious. Just be there with the characters. Don’t impose or impede them. It’s worrisome, exhilarating, frightening. Inevitably your characters will take over and say something or do something that is a hundred times better than if I had their every moment planned out.

Q:  Plugs, please:

A:  Jack’s Precious Moment by Sam Hunter which is now being produced through P73. I’ve only just begun to get to know his work and man am I blown away and inspired by what he’s doing. And Janine Nabers. Full disclosure – she and I went to grad school together. She’s sorta been all over the place this year from the Soho Writer/Director Lab to a Dramatists Guild Fellowship to Sundance. Amazing writer...taught me so much. I’m a wee bit in awe, but don’t tell her I said so.

May 21, 2010

I Interview Playwrights Part 174: Don Nigro



Don Nigro

Q: Hometown, Current Town:

A: I was born in Canton, Ohio (I think where the hospital used to be there's a theatre now) and now live by the woods just outside Malvern, a small town in east Ohio where my father was born. His parents were Italian immigrants. My mother's family were pioneer folk and I think at least one Delaware or Wyandot lady is also in there somewhere. I hope so, anyway.

Q: What are you working on now?

A: I've found it's bad luck for me to talk about what I'm writing until I'm almost done. Hemingway said that if you talk about it, you kill it, and that's the case with me, although perhaps it's different with sane people. I'm not superstitious about it, but somehow talking about a play while I'm right in the middle of writing it seems to shut the door that leads to that bizarre subterranean place where all the good stuff comes from. I just finished a play called Mysterium in which Freud and Jung are on a boat in the middle of the ocean at night having an increasingly shrill disagreement about which one of them is hysterical when the Nazis start manning the life boats.

Q: How many plays have you written? If my count is correct, you have 48 plays published by Sam French. Does anyone else come close to that? Is it possible that you have written more plays than anyone else ever has?

A: You're correct that Samuel French has published 48 volumes of my plays so far---but some of these are collections, so the total number of published plays is more like 135, I think. But French has also recently added all the as yet unpublished ones to its online catalogue, so the total number available for leasing through them is now at 322, I think. I know that sounds like a lot, but you have to take into consideration that I have nothing else to do here but watch the squirrels. Lope de Vega wrote about 1800 plays, so I don't think I'm going to catch up. In fact, I don't write all that quickly. It's taken me ten or fifteen years to finish some plays. If they don't feel right I put them aside and pick them up again next week or next year or whenever. It doesn't really matter how much you write, as long as you're completely immersed in it while you're writing it. You just sort of trust the voices and see what comes out. It's the way I investigate the world.

Q: Tell me, if you will, a story from your childhood that explains who you are as a writer or as a person.

A: I wrote about this in a play called The Dark. I'm four years old, helping to dust my books and toys in my room when suddenly my brain just goes to this other place, and I realize, this isn't me, I'm not this child with this name living in this house, I'm actually somebody else entirely. I'm---and then my mother is shaking me and saying, Hey, where were you? and I'm sitting there with the dust rag in my hand trying to remember where I just was, what my real name is, only I can't. I had those experiences, gradually less and less intense, all through my childhood, that sensation of having come from another place, of almost being able to remember who I really was. Some years later, I took a wrong turn in a building and stumbled into an empty theatre, and suddenly had this intensely eerie feeling that I was back there, in that other place before I was born. It still feels like that to me.

Q: If you could change one thing about theater, what would it be?

A: I think the American confusion of a thing's value with its ability to generate capital is tragic, and has always crippled and polluted the theatre here. Hit and flop are code words for profit and loss. This is an enormously short-sighted way of looking at art, which is an investigation into possible truths through imagination. The imagination comes first. Everything else in civilization follows from that. Theatre is the imagination made flesh. A society that sees art as trivial makes itself systematically stupid and ultimately destroys itself.

Q: Who are or were your theatrical heroes?

A: Shakespeare and the Jacobeans, Chekhov, and a lot of British and Irish drama from about 1950: Beckett and Pinter, early Bond and Arden, Peter Barnes, Stoppard. Non-dramatic work that's been important to me: Yeats, Joyce, Ford Madox Ford, T. S. Eliot, Faulkner, Proust, Borges, and that masterpiece of surrealism, the King James Bible. Also Buster Keaton and the Marx Brothers.

Q: What kind of theater excites you?

A: You can find sudden, numinous, stunning, riveting theatre in the oddest places, often not where you're expecting it at all. It can happen just about anywhere. And even when it's misguided and inept, there's often something weirdly holy about it, in odd moments, if you just look, and give yourself to it. As Yogi Berra said, You can see a lot if you observe.

Q: What advice do you have for playwrights just starting out?

A: Don't take my advice.

May 20, 2010

I Interview Playwrights Part 173: Barton Bishop



Barton Bishop

Hometown: Tampa, FL.

Current Town: Astoria, Queens, NY.

Q:  What are you working on now?

A:  I’ve got a new play going up in the fall here in NYC, via the good and wonderful people at the New York Theatre Experiment. It’s called Up Up Down Down. The title’s a video game thing, a reference to the Konami cheat code from the original Nintendo days, but it’s also a reference to bipolar disorder (well, lookit that, that there works on TWO levels!). It’s about geeks and terrorism and video games and family and paranoia. And it’s a love story. It should be great!

And I recently(ish) finished a play trilogy I was working on for quite some time. That was cathartic in all sorts of ways. I originally thought they were three separate pieces, but, I’ve decided to insist that (and I may be shooting myself in the foot here..) – whatever happens, wherever, whenever, however – the plays receive their world premiere as a whole, as a trilogy, in rep.

With the initial writing of those scripts sort of wrapped up (for now), I’m tinkering away on several new projects. One is a play about a socially impossible Southern blogger, a fanboy of all things geek who finally finds the love of his life only to lose her to a small zombie uprising. So now the uprising is over, the zombies are quarantined on an island, things are back to normal, and our guy’s got her chained up in the basement and he’s trying to keep her a secret and keep her alive, hoping they find a cure. It’s a whole letting go thing, playing with how the inability to move forward after a loss can devour you and those around you. Literally. And – as of now – I’m playing with having it move back and forth between “before” and “after,” so we can see the reality of their relationship contrasted with how he’s romanticizing it now that she’s (sort of) gone, forgetting all the things that weren’t working, etc.

I’m also working on a new play about a hipster high-school music teacher who discovers her existence is an accident in the space-time continuum and that she has to be “deleted” in order to stop the universe from tearing apart. Pardon the pitchtastic way of talking about it, but I’ve been thinking of it as a kind of It’s A Wonderful Life and Our Town meets LOST thing.

So yeah... I’m hoping to have a readable draft of one of these projects wrapped up by the end of the summer.

You know, it’s the ongoing tug-of-war, though, the day jobs, the side gigs, etc, finding that balance, trying to figure out which hands to bet on… I mean – I’ve held down my financial fort for the last 7 years by adapting anime into English. I don’t speak Japanese, I get rough (and usually hysterical) translations and I rework the dialogue / adapt it. Depending on the company and the project, I sometimes end up rewriting the material entirely, tweaking the narratives, characters, backstories, changing stuff around… It’s kinda fun because I have to work with the pre-existing animation so it’s an exercise in working within strict limitations. I often say it feels like doing that New Yorker caption contest at 30 frames per second. The work has actually taught me a lot about dialogue structure. But – you know, this was one of those gigs that I fell into after grad school and I thought, “cool, I’ll do this for a while.” ….and then somehow it’s 7 years later and I’m working on what MIGHT be my 400th episode…

I’m also writing for a video game company right now, which is a geek dream come true, I won’t lie. I’m actually incredibly excited about the gig. I’ve always been passionate about the medium and where it can go. I’ve been a lifelong gamer, owned almost every console since the Atari 2600… In a lot of weird ways, I feel this deep personal connection to gaming, it’s like - We were childhood friends. We took our first baby steps together. We grew up together. We matured together (though both of our maturations are arguable). We had sex with an alien hooker while driving an Ice Cream truck 95 miles an hour against freeway traffic in order to escape the Zombie Pig Cops From Mars together. So many memories.

But – so yes – to try to bring it all back – I sometimes (and I think a lot of writers I know feel this way) find myself trying to figure out what to focus on, how to divide my creative energies, etc… You know – “in this crazy modern world of ours.”

I’ll admit it, the question “what are you working on now?” can actually send me into a neurotic panic, within seconds I’m going “I don’t KNOW! I can’t DECIDE, I don’t know WHO I AM, I don’t know what I should BE DOING!! WAAAAH! GIVE ME BEER AND ICE CREAM”

….But then I calm down and remind myself that I’m one of those people who thinks variety is a good thing. Especially for writers. It’s good to hop around, step away, come back… It’s that whole breathe in / breathe out thing. Everything can inform everything. And there’s no rush.

Um.

Did I answer the question?

Q:  Tell me, if you will, a story from your childhood that explains who you are as a writer or as a person.

A:  I ran away from home once. But I wasn’t allowed to cross the street, so I just wandered around my block until I got hungry. Then I went home.

Wait, no. I’m not sure I like what that says about me.

I’ll tell you another one – In fifth grade, this dickhead in my class walked up to me and said “Hey, did you know that if you put an F in front of your name, it would spell fart!?” And I informed him that, “No, actually, it would spell FBart.” The kids around us laughed. At the dickhead. It was in this moment that I realized the true power of the wit. It was great. And then the dickhead beat the hell out of me.

I had no idea what was cool when I was a kid. Here’s another story – When I was in, like, fourth grade, I committed my first theft. I stole a cassette copy of Phil Collins’ No Jacket Required album from a friend’s dad. I think I was hoping it would have “In The Air Tonight” on it. It didn’t. Either way, I thought it was the best thing ever. I even asked my mom if I could get my hair cut like Phil’s. She informed me that Phil’s “haircut” was called a receding hairline bordering on baldness and that I didn’t want that. I didn’t care, I thought Phil was a badass. He looked so intense and awesome. Fortunately, I soon went on to discover R.E.M. and Zeppelin and New Order and straightened myself out.

Q:  If you could change one thing about theater, what would it be?

A:  I would magically find a way for theatre companies to not have to rely on the failing not-for-profit model.

Oh! - ..and I’d make directors and actors and artistic directors and producers subject to ongoing talkback and feedback sessions in which me and my playwright friends (and an audience, of course, free admission!) can tell them how we think they can fix their work and better do their jobs.

No, no, I’m kidding, I’m kidding, I’m kidding! …Calm down, YOU! It was a joke!

But really – less development crap. Edward Albee once said “The best way to support a young playwright is to produce her first five plays.” That’s as true as it gets. A reading can only get you so far. But I think most plays reach that point – and I think this happens relatively early on in the process – where they need more than a reading. A play needs a director and some designers and some actors, all of whom are coming together and giving the play more than just a few quick hours trying to figure out where to put the music stands and whether or not there’s going to be bottled water. Everyone involved needs to get to know the play as intimately as the playwright knows it, to give it the same respect and consideration, and, really, to have something at stake. Just like the writer has something at stake. The best rewrites I make are the ones I make during rehearsal. Because a trust system starts to form, I don’t know – something kinetic and binding happens during rehearsal that just can’t happen in a reading. The conversation stops being “We might do this play if you make it more like this,” and it becomes “Shit, we’re ALL in this, this thing is happening, let’s do what we can to make it rock.”

Q:  Who are or were your theatrical heroes?

A:  Anyone who made it happen or is making it happen or is gonna make it happen someday.

Q:  What kind of theater excites you?

A:  Live nude theatre!!

..No…

….Um…

You know, I imagine I might’ve – at one point had a list of prerequisites. Rules For Enjoyment. I don’t know anymore, I honestly don’t. It’s on an “I know it when I experience it” basis. I will say that honesty is nice. And I tend to respond to sincerity of heart in whatever form it takes. I’m definitely a heart guy. I don’t really respond to intellectual or aesthetical exercises if there’s no heart beating at the center of it all. I feel like real heart is the one thing you can’t fake. Everything else is wallpaper.

Q:  What advice do you have for playwrights just starting out?

A:  Find a creative home. Find the people who know you and who get you and who get what you’re going for. They can’t be Yes People, though. They have to challenge you. But the most important thing is that they know you and they get you. Don’t bother too much with the people who don’t. If you do and you’re not careful, they’ll turn you into something you’re not.