CLOSE TO SANITY

Back home. So strange how, after all these miles and experiences, you wake up and it all seems like a dream. It all seems strange, to be honest. Days, weeks, months and years. Best not to dwell to long on it, or I will get swept up in a river of thinking. pulled under by the currents of time, thrown to the surface by unforeseen circumstance, and pummeled by a storm of lament. 

Wow.

What a happy thought.

Sometimes, it just goes that way.

I'm sitting in my den, working on coffee number one, fretting about everything and nothing and all that's inbetween. The usual morning existential blues. I think it is good to ponder, as long as it doesn't take over my life. 

I am such a lucky soul. I have so much. A home. A family. Friends. Job. Writing. Theatre. Film. Travel. 

Even so, at times, I find myself waking up before the alarm clock and wondering about it all. What does any of this mean? Have I chosen the right path. Should I have done other things? 

All the great "What Ifs of Life" that people my mind.

And as usual, I come to the conclusion that regardless, Life is meant to be lived. Examining it from time to time is part of the deal, and necessary, but so is being in the moment. Appreciating how nice it feels to take a morning stroll and feel cool air on my skin. To find a new song by a band I never heard of. To share a look with a random dog I pass. To work on a new story. To watch a favorite film. To argue about stupid shit. To spill coffee on my shoes. To tell a joke that doesn't land. To tell a joke that does land. To clean up a mess. 

Really, this beats being a chair or a rock or an electron floating in the void.

I don't know if life is a simulation, part of a plan by celestial beings, or what- but I do know I am here. I think, as our old pal Des Cartes said, therefore I am. 

Okay. Had to get that out. I have lots that needs to get out. 

On a constant basis. I think that's why I write. It keeps me close to sanity.

I have a few things going on this fall. Top of the list, my short film Burning the Old Man, based on my play, which I co-directed with my dear friend Timothy McCracken, will have its world premiere at the SOHO International Film Festival on September 20 in NYC. I am going. This will be the first time I sit in a theatre and see my name on the credits. I am excited. I want it to go well. I want to make the full length. I want so much. The fact that it is happening, that I get to be there, in NYC, where my writing career began, is amazing. 

A shot in the arm. An ego boost. A party. 

And before, during, and after said party, I have new stories to write, classes to teach, plays to direct, movies to make, trips to take.

It takes a moment for me to breathe, to realize how much I have. I don't mean to negate my morning blues. I think they are important. I do not wish to ever pretend life is not hard, puzzling, and far too short. I also do not wish to disregard the magic, the joy of it all. It's both. Every day. 

Up and down. High and low. Happy and sad. 

Here's a song. I somehow missed it when it came out. But I do love it now. It's At the Bottom of Everything by Bright Eyes. 

WANDERING THE NIGHT COUNTRY

Home with Covid this week. Almost seems retro. Like most of life, it is surreal and odd, perhaps an illusion or dream a butterfly is having. Of course, this could be the Covid talking, deceiving, tricking. In any event, I am stuck at home, and so I am finally putting away the last of the Christmas decorations, catching up on shows I need to catch up on, writing projects, and the final edit of my latest short film, which is a combo short film that stands on its own and a proof of concept, meaning a short meant to indicate what a feature version of this would be like. Plus I have to do a new draft of a podcast episode that is set to record in the next month with an air date sometime in the fall. A scary tale of the North Woods.

I'm rambling, like a lost hiker in a strange forest.

And I like it. 

Shows I am catching up on:

The Traitors, on Peacock. It's a reality show set in a Scottish castle where a bunch of terrible people, most of whom have been on other reality shows, perform various tasks for money, and have to contend with the fact that there are secret traitors in their midst, plotting their demise. It's sort of a glorified version of the game Mafia, which I have played with many a theatre class over the years. The show is hosted by Alan Cumming. It's really fun, the scenery is beautiful, and Alan Cumming is just the best. As a bonus, the castle is just north of Inverness, which we were lucky enough to visit last summer, and one of the great joys in life is seeing some place you've been to on tv. 

True Detective: Night Country, on Max. This is a fucked up story about a bunch of fucked up people in a fucked up part of the world, which I am quite familiar with. Alaska, land of the Midnight Sun and Midnight Souls, lost people who either have had their entire culture and history violated by intruders, or the intruders and their progeny, who mostly live their to be as far away as possible from wherever they came from. I'm sure there are happy, well balanced people up there. I just didn't meet that many. Especialy way up north. It's where I found my father when I was 28. A huge, dangerous country. The show is chock full of the supernatural, alludes to things like the Dyatlov Pass Incident, Murder, and mythology. The writing is tight, the imagery creepy and beautiful, and I can't get enough. 

The podcast episode is based on a short play I wrote a while back that has since morphed into a pilot I am currently working on. The pilot is totally different, but the podcast is basically the play mooshed into a radio play format. It's titled "Alma's Anomalies", and is about a pair of slackers, ill equipped in every possible sense of the word, who journey to the Apostle Islands in Lake Superior in the hopes of resurrecting a ghost. Sadly for them, they succeed. The story is set to air on Coffee Contrails. More info to come soon.

The short, Burning the Old Man, is based on my play of the same name. The play has been my most successful writing project to date, and has been produced all over the world, in NYC, Prague, Sao Paolo, and various other places. It even had a run a few years ago up in Boulder at CU, which was conveniently located for me. The short takes the soul of the play, boils it down to its essence, cooks it for a few months at a high heat, and now is ready to serve. It is the first film from McSquared Productions, my new film company I've formed with my great friend Tim McCracken.  It features an original score by Bob D'Haene and Matt Vogel, who are fucking awesome. More info on that soon too.

So, my thought for the day, as I sit, housebound and wanting to get out, is this. I think we manage to keep our minds closed to most of what is going on, most of the time. We create our explanation of existence, which seem to be variations on either "the world is terrible" and "the world is fantastic", all the while ignoring events as they unfold in real time. (if such a thing as time exists. I'm going with our existence being real, for the sake of this blog entry) The world has all sorts of shit in it. good and bad and bold and beautiful. Music, nature, violence, sorrow, death, birth, and on and on. We bounce through it all, and I think we need to experience it all completely, with as few filters as we can manage. I realize sometimes we need to keep some of it out. But I think we keep too much out too often. 

Now that I've written that down, it doesn't sound as deep as it did while I was laying in bed ruminating. 

Ah well. Two songs today. Into Dust by Mazzie Star, which was featured in episode four of Night Country and which I first came across while dealing with my mother dying. It both comforts me in the loneliness and makes me want to cry yet again. The other is Hallelujah by D'Haene. It is featured in the short of Burning the Old Man. Enjoy.

New Year, Goals, Worries. New Odyssey.

A New Year. Lots coming up. Shows. Short Film. An election that could lead to the end of America. All sorts of shit. I'm directing seven plays between now and June. Producing a large budget show that goes up end of June. Teaching playwriting at the Denver Center. 

Life, as always, chugs along. Sometimes, of late, I wake with this feeling of existential dread. Like, what is the meaning of any of this? Which I know is not productive. As far as I can tell, my little brain is not equipped to process, figure out, or solve the Riddle of Being Alive. Still, now and then, I get the blues, the why-am-I-here blues. And I think. And play Greig or Simon and Garfunkel or Phoebe Bridgers, and go through it. 

And what's really amazing, and to me miraculous, is that this simple act of allowing my self to wallow in self pity and dread for a bit sort of exorcises those demons. It douses the vampire with sunlight. 

It gets me going again.

I do not know how long life is, for me or anyone else. I don't know why we are here, or where we will go, if anywhere, once it's time to do the Mortal Coil Shuffle. I just know I love it here. I love clouds and music and dogs and cats and coffee and friends and my wife and my home. I love writing stories, and showing kids how to pretend to be a goblin in the Battle of the Five Armies. 

I love all of it.

I don't think this makes me heroic. I am fairly certain I was just born this way. 

And I must be a bit of an egotist, because I write about all this in my blog sporadically, and in my journal every single day. 

I wouldn't do it if it didn't make me feel good. But does doing something to feel good justify it? I suppose that has to be taken on a case by case basis. 

So.

2024. Goals. Resolutions. Hopes and dreams. All that jazz. 

I hope to read more books. I'm reading a new translation of Homer's The Odyssey by Emily Wilson that is just fantastic. I hope to use it to fuel one of my new projects, a pilot set in the world of another project, Lunatics and Assholes, that I really love. 

I hope to finish the color and sound of my new short, Burning the Old Man, which is a proof of concept for a feature that I made with my dear friend Tim McCracken. We shot it in the fall, mostly down in Gunnison, and it was fucking awesome. Is fucking awesome. Once it's done, we plan to enter it into several film festivals, and also send it to some producers we know, with the goal of getting funding to make the feature. All we need is someone to put up 500K to 10 million. Which seems absurd, yet there it is.

How did I get to a place where that kind of money is in the mix? No idea. But I won't question it. I'll just move ahead, hope for the best, and keep writing, directing, producing, teaching. Being me.

I hope to travel more. Going to Edinburgh last summer reawakened my wanderlust. The world is not one oyster, but a constantly refilling, huge bowl full of them. And they come in all sizes, and flavors. And I am famished.

I hope to go to more theatre, see more movies, hear more music, hike more paths, dream more dreams.

And I hope to write on this blog at least once a week.

Okay. That's now a thing. I will write in this blog once a week.

I now go off to make breakfast, get ready for tech rehearsal, then work on script for new show about Shakespeare, then hopefully catch a few more episodes of The Offer, on Paramount, which is an amazing show and I encourage you all to watch it.

Here's a song. It's Northern Attitude by Noah Kahan & Hozier. I dig it. 

CRAZY, DAUNTING, AND PERFECT

So a while back, my good friend Tim, who I have known forever and who is one of the few people on this planet I trust completely without question, and someone whom I love completely, suggested we make some movies together. This sounded both crazy, daunting, and perfect. So I said yes. 

Or, to be more exact, "Fuck Yeah!" 

We had worked on many projects in the past, from a nine hour, three part  theatre adaptation of East of Eden at the Western Stage in Salinas to a production of Richard II in NYC to my first, and up to that point only, short film, Strong Tea. He was also the lead in my most successful play to date, Burning the Old Man.

That's us in the photo above. Back in the day. Young and crazy. NYC. Cigarettes and beers after a long day slinging hash between acting gigs. Having the time of our lives.

So, there we were having coffee at one of our haunts here in Denver, talking about life and theatre and film. Tim had just made a movie, Publish or Perish, that is kicking ass in the festival circuit and is now available to stream on Amazon. I was in the middle of yet another script- a pilot I was finishing before the deadline for the Austin Film Festival. And that's when Tim popped the question, so to speak.

Yes, I used the phrase "popped the question", the classic phrase for proposing marriage. Let's face it. Making a movie is a commitment up there with marriage. You pledge your heart and soul. For it to work, you have to bare your soul. Be vulnerable. Improvise when problems arise. Be flexible.

So he asked, I said yes, and then it was time to think of a project.

We wanted to make something that could be both a short, and also a proof of concept for a full length movie. And we wanted to take advantage of where we live, with all this natural beauty surrounding us. 

And Burning the Old Man popped up almost immediately.  A story about two estrange brothers taking their father's ashes on a road trip to Burning Man, as per his dying request. Their relationship with their father was difficult, and their relationship with each other even more so. As such, their road trip is full of recrimination, anxiety, and tension, with a tragic sense of loss tuck under a veneer of comedy.  Tim had played Marty, the older brother in the original play, and we both felt he should do so again. 

So I wrote up a script, we kicked it around,  adjusted the story as needed, gathered a crew of dedicated geniuses, and set some dates.

And the magic began. We kept having things happen that just seemed to be signs we were doing the right thing. A friend offered us a hotel up in the mountains to use as our base for the main stretch of shooting. Another friend just happened to live in that same area and offered to scout locations. 

And what locations! Colorado is so pretty, so majestic and huge and full of wonder. And most of the time,  I manage to not see it. But not on the shoot.

I really wanted to just talk about this one moment from the shoot today. It happened at there rocks in the high desert, during the climatic moment of the movie. These two brothers, who have been bickering like children for the past 24 hours, have ended up on this precipice, screaming at each other and having a tuh of war over the bag containing their father's ashes. As written, the bag rips open, the ashes fly, and the brother's dumbfounded at what their stupid fighting has wrought, stare at each other as their father's remains float away. 

On the day of the shoot, we were all a bit tired. We'd shot for 14 hours the day before. Drew, the actor playing Bobby, the younger brother, was not feeling well. Even so, we were all amped. We were making something that felt good, felt right. Felt like what we had all chosen to do with our lives. 

And we get to the scene. Now, to prefect, we had talked a lot about the brother's relationship the past few days. How underneath all the hurt and anger there was a deep love. A heartbroken love. A longing to connect like that had once been able to effortlessly but now seemed impossible. 

So we get to the big moment. The point when the bag rips and the ashes fly. 

The first take, a long shot, goes great. We get a safety shot, then move in for a closer shot. 

And when the bag rips, Drew almost falls off the rocks. For a moment, I think "Shit! I just killed Drew!" Everyone freezes.

Except Tim. 

He instinctively grabs Drew, pulls him up. And then, in character, Tim impulsively hugs Drew. Or rather, Marty impulsively hugs Bobby. We keep rolling. Nobody on set is making a sound. But we all feel connected to what is happening. Bobby tries to break free of the hug. Marty keeps hugging. It's really touching and sad and real. After a beat, Bobby hugs his brother back. 

And we all start hotting and hollering. Something had happened. Something unexpected but totally real. 

Then everyone looks at me. "Do we keep it?" they all ask, in various ways. It is quite different than the ending as written. Changes the trajectory a little. But it feels so right.

And I have to make a decision. It's my script. I'm co-director of this with Tim. Also co-producer. It's my call. 

And I go with it. Tweak the script slightly. 

We finish. And it is clear to me that the movie has now become more than it was. 

And that I am learning more than I could have possibly hoped for when we started making this movie.

Now we are in post. Editing. Mixing. All that type of thing. 

We hope to send it to festivals. To show it to some producers who will shower us with money so we can make the full length film.

But no matter what, I have gained from this experience. 

Here's a song. It's one of my all time favorites. Pale Green Things by The Mountain Goats. 

LOOKING FOR SOUL FOOD, TRYING TO BE LIKE BOY GENIUS

Having one of those mornings where I realize that what we really need to do, we writers, artists, thinkers, parents, children... is remember that we are human beings, first and foremost. We are at our best when we take care of each other, because that's part of the deal. When we deal with both the world we dream of and the one we live in now. When, on top of satisfying our immediate, usually no so brilliant needs like having a cookie or doom scrolling or whatever it is that isn't all that important and we know it isn't but still do it, we take a step back and deal with the here and now. We ourselves and each other. With both the pain and glory of life. And I know that seems simplistic, and of course it is-- super clear, obvious, a no shit Sherlock vibe-- 

And yet, I often forget that.

It's hard to not fret about the little things when you aren't sure what the little things are any more.

This happens to me all the damn time.

And then, also all the time but not quite as often, I'll remember that being alive is groovy. That I have lived a life, have friends, stories, moments in time. That I am genuine. That we all are. I do not subscribe to the idea that if everyone is special, no one is. That's a bullshit phrase born in fear and encouraged by people who want to sell you something that, according to them, is the thing you need to be special.

Fuck that.

I'm thinking on this for three main reasons.

Number One: I'm working on a show that's going to Scotland for the Edinburgh Fringe. Eigg.  (for more info on that, go HERE) And it's reminding me of why I chose to live the life I live. Because making theatre is hard, crazy, and at times, once in a while, magic. And the secret sauce to the magic is to just be in the moment, leaning in, using all the skills and structure while at the same time letting myself into the process- who I am, warts and all. And encouraging/celebrating everyone else in the show doing the same thing. We are doing that, kicking it in the ass, and having a hell of a time in the process. There will be come shows in Denver late July, then off to Scotland! More info will be on these pages soon.

Number Two: I just started work on a short film/proof of concept for Burning the Old Man with Tim McCracken. It's based on my play of the same name. Tim and I met for coffee, talked it over, and something in my brain exploded. I came home, started writing-- and I felt like some sort of magician, conjuring worlds and people. I haven't felt this creatively excited in a long time. A lot of writing is keeping structure in mind, format, using the logic of plot and all that. Which is vital. But I think without that spark that got you there in the first place, with out the vulnerable, strange me/you of it, whatever you're working on becomes a knock off, a bit of the same old thing, and not so exciting. I am finding the me/you in this. The words are flowing. More on this soon. 

Number Three: I saw a movie yesterday. A big Hollywood blockbuster kind of movie. And it was fun. But it didn't have that organic, specific and therefore universal moment, that made me believe. And I need that, both in what I watch and what I write. If there isn't some moment that makes it clear, on an emotional level, that this thing is being made not just to make money but to express some aspect of the artists life, why should I give a shit. 

Often, I find movies with flaws very inspiring. 

So. that's today. 

I plan to write more blog entries between now and Edinburgh. So stay tuned.

Here's a song that I think exemplifies sticking to the rules while not sticking to the rules, baring one's soul, and using the very specific to make the very universal. It's BoyGenius, who are fucking awesome, and the song is "Not Strong Enough".

MY PERMANENT COSTUME

Halloween is almost here. My favorite time of year. Crisp skies, leaves changing color, lots of monster movies, what's not to love? On top of that, the Giants are in the playoffs, going up against their ancient rivals, the Dodgers. Among the things I miss the most about being a kid, I miss Halloween and trick-r-treating. We'd cover a huge area in San Jose back then, and I would fill at least three pillow cases with candy by the end of the night, then go home, divide the goods up, trade with my fellow ghouls, and stay up late watching Creature Features. In my mind, every Halloween was on a Friday or Saturday, every time the weather was perfect, and the candy bars were all full size. 

What is it about dressing up and acting like a monster, vampire, zombie, pirate, and so on that is so satisfying? Wish fulfillment? Escape? Madness?

Now, way way back, I also thought the Moon was full of green werewolves with bat wings for ears and that when said Moon was full, they'd fly out, coming down to Earth to dine on anyone fool enough to be outside. On top of that, the Boogie Man lived up there too. In my mind, the Boogie Man was a psychotic variation on Chef Boy-ar-dee, with a huge butcher knife, but he would come out from mirrors, so those were to be avoided.

I had some issues, I suppose.

Still, I'd like to go trick-r-treating in that far away land of Back Then. 

I think my writing is all an attempt to do just that. To fill the world with absurd monsters, plucky young heroes, and candy. I did this Twitter thing today, called ScreenPit, where you tweet out a logline for a movie or limited series of TV pilot. My four tweets were:

Kelly McAllister

@rkmcallister

·

3h

AMERICAN SPIRITS When her two best friends drastically change overnight, an idealistic young woman is drawn into a paranormal mystery surrounding a dark force taking over her hometown.

BOOGIE MAN A deaf woman who can communicate with the dead teams up with an obnoxious Paranormal Reality TV host to fight a homicidal ghost.

BURNING THE OLD MAN While taking their father’s ashes to Burning Man, a high strung young man and his estranged brother break down in the desert and are forced to confront their complicated past.

THE BELVEDERE JUNGLE Coming of age story of a gifted boy who escapes into wild fantasies to escape his dysfunctional, alcoholic home. Notice a trend? Everything is either a scary movie or someone trying to fix the past.

They say as a writer, you need to find your voice. My voice is a wolf howling Angry Young Man by Styx, in monotone.

Oh! Speaking of writing, I was working on Belvedere Jungle, going over the story arc, them, tone, and all that. When I write, I do a lot of rewrites, which usually involves lots of staring at the screen, listening to music, staring at the screen, cleaning the house, staring at the screen, reading a new book, and staring at the screen. And now and then, some actual writing.

So, I'm doing just that, and for some reason I decide to finally read Doctor Sleep. And the first thing in it, the first damn thing, is a quote about letting go of anger. Which is basically what the main character in Belvedere Jungle learns to do over the course of the story. It seems not like such a big deal now that I write it down, but at the time it seemed to me a sign from the Writing Gods that I was on the right path, I was where I needed to be, and all we well.

I am a magic thinker. A fool. Me.

Still, I do take it as a sign, silly as that may sound. I have chosen the Foolish Magic Thinker for my permanent costume, so what else can I do?

I hope you have chosen yourself a good costume as well. One that thrills you, at times frustrates you, but that fits you like a glove and brings joy to your weary heart on those long days that always manage to find you.

And that you avoid mirrors and green werewolves when the moon is full.

Here's a song. It's a cover of Warren Zevon's Werewolves of London by Reina del Cid & Toni Lindgren. Hope you dig it. And if you do the Twitter thing, go and give my tweets some love.

WORK WORK WORK

So I am busy a lot. I direct shows all over, write as often as I can, teach in many places, and am actively pursuing selling my screenplays.


Right now, I am directing the musical Honk! at Reel Kids, and next week I start a production of Avenue Q there as well. (slots are still open, if you are a teen ager and want to do a show with dirty jokes, puppets, and awesome songs) I am also in pre-production for Lend Me a Tenor with Inspire/Creative in Parker. This is a show with adults, and my first full production down there and I am very excited. I am also gearing up for a production of the Drowsy Chaperone at the Wolf Theatre at the Denver JCC which starts in September.  I am also getting ready to create a brand new show with a group of young artists at the Logan School, where I will be teaching this coming year. And I will also be doing a Glee inspired show up at StageDoor in Conifer to round out my fall/winter session.

Writing wise, I am working on a new pilot called Boogie Man, a paranormal series that is part homage, part parody of all the semi-reality based shows out there about ghosts, Bigfoot, Aliens, and the like. I am also adapting my book for the musical Rose Red (which was just produced in Ohio, making a total of four full productions so far) into a screenplay. I am also currently shopping my feature screenplays Burning the Old Man and Ghostlight to managers, agents, and production companies. There have been several script requests, which is awesome- but no solid offers yet. I stress the yet.

Teaching: like I said, I will be teaching drama at the Logan School, as well as doing a multi-media class at The Finest High School, an alternative high school in Evergreen Village. And I will also be teaching film at Reel Kids. Oh! Almost forgot- I'll also be directing a production of The Little Mermaid there this Fall. And there is a good chance I'll be doing some playwriting workshops for the Denver Center as well.

Delicious.

What is there to do, but take a walk with the dog everyday, take advantage of my three free months of Apple Music and listen to as much music as I can (already doing that and have found lots of good tunes, like Le Femme D'argent by Air, Elevator Operator by Courtney Barnett, and Astral Weeks by Van Morrison), read some good books (currently on a Patton Oswalt kick) and watch good movies like Me & Earl & the Dying Girl, and good tv shows like Jonathan Strange & Mr. Norrell, and hold my wife a lot, and breathe, and remember this is the only life I get and it is way better than being born a bit of dust out by Pluto or something.

APRIL IN SALINAS

April is coming to Salinas. So is Ahab and Moira and Jaypes. They're all being brought there by Norn- or Urd, as some call her. Or is it Verdandi? Or perhaps Skuld? Who can say for sure? What I am fairly sure of is that all those strangely named folks are characters in my new play. Mayhap they're all mad. Or we are. Or you are. Or I am. Or not. It all comes down to something in the end. Doesn't it? What appears to be happening- if indeed this reality is happening and not the dream of a butterfly about to waken, at which point this world will pass- is that my latest play April's Fool is slated to be presented as a staged reading as part of The Western Stage's Playwrights Festival.


The reading is on Sunday April 12 at 2:00 pm. Tickets are free, which I think is reasonable and shouldn't put anyone too much back.

Here's a taste. This is from the beginning of the first scene. It's late at night, and Ahab and April are about to break into Moira's apartment. At this point, they are standing offstage, just outside the door into Moira's place, where the scene unspools. Enjoy:

AHAB (O.S.)

Quiet! She’s probably asleep. Stand back, I’m going to break

the door down.

APRIL (O.S.)

What if it’s unlocked?

AHAB (O.S.)

Don’t be stupid! Nobody leaves their door open anymore!

The door opens, and we see April, late twenties/early thirties. She is wearing a harlequin costume, including a black mask over her eyes. In one hand she holds a bag full of tools, in the other a flashlight, which she points into the room. She takes a few steps in, followed by AHAB- same age, wearing a court jester costume, holding a crowbar.

APRIL

You were saying?

AHAB 

Your hair wants cutting.

APRIL

You should learn not to make personal remarks. It’s very
rude.

AHAB

Well, shit.

APRIL

So now that we’re in, what’s the plan?

AHAB

Grab the pinball machine Dickhead gave her, throw it out the window, and escape into the night!

APRIL

Quiet! (whispers) She’s probably asleep!

AHAB 

(whispers) Right. Flashlight.


April pulls another flashlight out of the bag, hands it to Ahab. He turns it on. They both point their flashlights around the apartment, revealing tasteful furniture, and also many empty glasses, half eaten bowls of potato chips and such, indicating a party was thrown earlier that night. There’s a door to the kitchen, and a hallway leading to a bedroom and bathroom. Ahab points his flashlight to a pinball machine in the middle of the room.

AHAB (cont’d)

Who gives his girlfriend a pinball machine?

APRIL 

I think it’s kind of cool.

AHAB 

It was a theoretical question!

APRIL

Theoretical?

AHAB

Rhetorical! You know what I mean! Not wanting an answer
‘cause it’s obvious that what I mean is that Dickhead is a dickhead. And it is not kind of cool!

APRIL

Have some wine.

AHAB

What are you trying to say?

APRIL

I think you know.

AHAB

Then you should say what you mean. 

If that whets your appetite, and you'd like to read the whole play, you can purchase it online- that's right, before it's world premiere later this year in NYC- at Indie Theater Now by clicking HERE.

The Playwrights Festival is part of a year long celebration of the Western Stage's 40th anniversary- which is a pretty remarkable achievement in the theatre world- or any other type of world for that matter. I have worked there both as an actor and a playwright, and it is part of the fabric of my soul- a place where I learned a bit about the stage, about art, about life and death and sex and drugs and rock-n-roll and the meaning of spaffles. As an actor, I had the distinct honor of being in the first two fully staged productions of Alan Cook's adaptation of John Steinbeck's East of Eden- a trilogy of plays that was in total nine hours long. If the list of shows I acted in was a discography, East of Eden could very well be my Sgt. Pepper's. Or Let It Bleed. As a playwright, they produced Burning the Old Man last summer, and the year before gave a staged reading of Riddle Lost.

Clearly, they have good taste in writers.

THE SPARROWS ARE FALLING All OVER THE PLACE

"I’ve been the Queen of Broken Hearts long enough!" - April

So Saturday, APRIL'S FOOL had it's first public reading ever, at the Fine Arts Center of Colorado Springs as part of the Rough Writers new play festival. It was fantastic. The cast- Nick Henderson, Jessica Parnello, Crystal Carter, Matthew Wessler, and Michelle Sharpe- were brilliant, the director - Crystal Carter- outstanding, and the overall experience very positive. They all kicked it in the ass. Seriously. These are some of the best Colorado has to offer. If you are anywhere near- and I mean like two hundred miles- the FAC in Colorado Springs and don't come to the reading this Friday, you might be what is technically known as a moron.


"We’re killing the pinball machine. Do you think it’ll fit out the window?" - Ahab


 I always feel like throwing up when I hear a new work of mine done for the first time. I don't get nerves when I act, or when I watch a show I directed. But when it's something I've written- all bets are off. But if it goes well, that feeling is quickly replaced with euphoria, triumph, and egotism.

"I am so stupid! Things are just starting to go my way, I finally get a break- and I go and kill my boyfriend!" - Moira

Now I take what I learned from hearing it out loud in front of people, make whatever re-writes I deem necessary, and we do it again this Friday at 7:30. What did I learn? First off, it seems like most people can relate to feeling unhinged in time, confused about their lives, and not quite sure what has happened to them. Go figure. On top of that, there are some tweaks to dialogue that should make it flow smoother- although, for whatever reason, dialogue seems to be one of my strongest suits as a writer. And the last scene needs something- a little more redemption or madness or I am not sure what, but there is a line or scene or event that hasn't happened yet that has to happen. I can feel it. A lot of times, when I write a play, there is some scene that comes late that ties everything together, sends it to the next level, connects the dots. In Muse of Fire, it's the scene where Dion and Mick drive to the ocean. In Last Call, it's a game of hide and seek that David and Jack play in a grave yard. Somewhere in the ether is that scene for April's Fool, waiting to say hello, to drop to the ground like a provident sparrow. I might find it today, or a month from now, but it's on it's way. Trust me.

"I gotta tell you- the coveralls, the whole hot bad girl at work thing? Daddy like." - Jaypes

I like this play. A lot. It's weird and funny and fantastical. It's got gods and dreams and murder by pinball. And a little bit of love, just for good measure.

Also on it's way, the next production of ROSE RED, at SOFA in Boulder. If you are a young performer and want to have one of the best June's of your life, be in this show.  It will kick you in the ass, and make you a super genius. Auditions are May 13 and May 20. Go here for more info:
http://www.offbroadwayfinearts.org/summer-stage-2013/

And this July, BURNING THE OLD MAN gets it's West Coast premiere at 2X4 BASH at the Western Stage in Salinas, CA. I did a lot of theatre there when I was starting out, including a three part, nine hour long version East of Eden that changed my life. It's a great theatre company, and to have one of my plays done there is very exciting to me. Come out and see it- if you do, I'll take you to the beach and buy you a soda.

"A foodie versed in Norse mythology, dressed as a clown, killed by a pinball machine, asking me out for drinks. Strange." - Norn

By the way- all the plays mentioned in this are available now, or soon will be, on INDIE THEATER NOW. So do us both a favor and buy a play for less than two bucks.

VESPERS IN BRAZIL, LUNATICS IN BOULDER

Saturday, As Cinzas do Velho (Buring the Old Man) opens in Sao Paolo, Brazil. The production looks to be fantastic. The director, Luis Artur Nunes, calls the play "Poetic Realism". I really like that. The cast is Alexandre Cruz, Marcelo Braga, Antonielo Canto, Ricardo Ripa, Livia Camargo, and Leandro Madeiros. They are going to kick it in the ass. Here is a trailer:

Last Saturday, my class in Boulder presented some work. Here they are, with a piece they created themselves. They too, kick it in the ass.

THIS TOO KICKS ASS

Burning the Old Man is by far my most successful play to date. It's initial run was well reviewed, won the NYIT award for outstanding full length script, been published both in print and online (at the best site for new scripts, Indie Theater Now) is featured in several scene/monologue books as well as in the latest edition of the text book Acting is Believing (a book I had to read in college), and has been translated into Czech and Portuguese. It ran for three years at Divadlo na Zabradli in Prague, and is currently playing at  Divadlo Exil. This Saturday, it opens in Sao Paolo, Brazil with the title As Cinzas do Velho. And this July, it will open in Salinas, CA as part of the 2X4 BASH at The Western Stage.

I look at the above paragraph and think that looks like a bunch of bragging. And maybe it is. But I feel pretty good about everything that's happened with the play, so what the hell? As Max Bialystock would say, flaunt it when you got it, baby! Flaunt it!

I wrote the play very quickly. The first draft took less than a week, and just sort of poured out in a torrent from my mind to my computer screen. I think it's both strange and wonderful that something that  seemed to come so easily has had such a long, healthy life. No doubt there is a lesson in there about trusting your instincts, getting out of your head, and letting the universe, or multiverse, guide you.



I think I am on the same track with my latest play, now titled Mathurine. I wrote the first draft in less than a week, have not over thought anything about it, and it seems to be touching a chord with everyone who reads it.

Now that I think of it, most of my best work is the work that I don't over think. I wrote my one act Hela and Troy in a day, and that's my other international play, having had productions in NYC, Canada, and Dubai.



But maybe those plays were only easy because I had spent plenty of time on plays that were not so easy. Or because I've spent my entire adult life around the theatre, as an actor, reviewer, director, and audience member. I don't know why. But I do know that, for me, the best thing to do when I sit down to write is to put on some good music, find the dimensional door that opens into another world, and walk through it. When I say dimensional door, what I mean is this: when I write a play or story or whatever, I usually see in my mind some scene- a guy running into a hotel lobby with a box full of his father's ashes; Hela, the Norse goddess of death, speed dating; a guy and a girl breaking into an apartment in Manhattan intending to do violence to a pinball machine. Then I go to that world, and that's that. It's hard to describe any better than that.

I must say here that I owe a lot to JoAnna Beckson- one of the best acting teachers around, who I was lucky enough to study with when I lived in NYC. She taught me to check my head at the door and be in the moment; to listen to my instincts; to listen and respond to what is happening right in front of me and to stop imposing my idea of what should be happening on top of what actually is happening. I've been very fortunate in my life when it comes to teachers, mentors, and colleagues. JoAnna inspired me, challenged me, and gave me wings.

One more thing. In Burning the Old Man, there is mention of the phrase "this too shall pass." There is a song by OK Go called This Too Shall Pass, and always makes me smile. There are two videos for that song. Both of them are clearly the product of people who let their imagination soar.

ROUGH WRITING

I'm pretty much writing all the time. Most of it is in my head, because I have to do things like go to work, eat, sleep, clean the house, walk the dog, and do all those little things that comprise a life. But still I write. Stories whirl around in my head like ghosts trapped in a glass jar. Some are full apparitions, some are mere shadows whose shape is unclear. But regardless of size and definition, they live and breathe and demand attention- some moaning and groaning, some singing and dancing. And if I am not able to write them down, they get angry and usually louder. I often think that if I don't exorcise them via a story or script, they become a poison in my system.

What can I say? I might be a little weird, but isn't eveyone?

So, one of the ghosts that has gotten my attention and has made it to the page is a new play with the working title "Don't Get Too Comfy, Pal." It sprang out of a painting, a charcoal sketch by Liz Maugans called "Don't Get Too Comfy, Pal." (As I write this, I am debating in my mind changing the title.  I don't know why, exactly, but after writing down that the title of the painting and the title of the play are the same, it struck me that I need to change the title). I found the art work via a writing contest being held by the Colorado Springs Fine Arts Center Theatre called Rough Writers. I have always liked the work that company does, and ever since I saw an excellent production of Leslie Bramm's one act Lovers Leapt directed by Scott RC Levy at there last year, I have wanted something of mine to be produced by this exciting company. And along comes this handy contest.

The guidelines were pretty simple- base a play of any length on one of three art works, and send it in by St. Valentine's Day. Here's the one that first sparked my imagination:


To me, it said lonely New York apartment, with something dark and strange looming in the air. It felt kind of haunted and dangerous and I just wanted to write about it. Suddenly I saw this guy called Ahab breaking into that very apartment. Not breaking in to steal something- breaking in to set something right that in his mind was wrong. Then I thought of this really horrible I had once been unfortunate enough to witness, which involved a fake marriage proposal. And the whole thing just started coming together. I saw lonely, funny, interesting people all trying to get different things, thrown together by circumstance. And I wanted, no doubt because of the paintings title, to have reality keep shifting on people- kind of like how most episodes of The Twilight Zone end, with a strange twist. Or like the ending of the first movie version of Planet of the Apes ( co-written by Rod Serling, the main creative force behind the twilight zone), where Charlton Heston, upon seeing the ruins of what was the Statue of Liberty, comes to the realization that he's been on Earth all along. You know, the part where he kneels on the sand and screams in that way that only Heston could "Damn you! Damn you all to Hell!"

So I had lonely NYC apartment, Ahab and his cohorts, and the idea that reality will shift alot- mostly at the end of each scene. Now I needed something else- some kind of supernatural character to tie it all together. And I took to the internets. I am lucky in that I have a lot of creative friends of Facebook- so I took an impromptu poll, asking what kind of supernatural being people would like to see in a play. After several excellent ideas, Bronwen Carson, a director/choreographer out of Brooklyn, suggested the Norns- who are the fates of Norse mythology. Now, I am a bit of a nut for Norse myths, and the instant I saw them, I knew they were what I wanted. But I decided to put all three Norns into one being, and have them answer to all three of their names at different moments. You know, the tired old triple-personality supernatural character we've seen so many times before. And like that, I saw all the characters of show. Ahab, a slacker actor/waiter who is in love with Moira, whose name means fate and who happens to have a stockbroker boyfriend named Kurt. Rounding out the cast is Sabrina, who is in love with Ahab and is named after a character on General Hospital (inspiration comes from anything and everything), and the Norn, who would appear both as herself, and also as whatever else is needed, which at this point includes a bar tender, a priest, and a cop.

Sound strange? Well, that's what goes on in my head, every freaking day. So, I start writing the first draft, and decided immediately that everyone has to be dressed like a clown or a jester or a fool of some type. And it makes total sense. And the play plops out of my head like Athena from the head of Zeus. It happens like that sometimes. A whole play materializes, as if from the void. Maybe it forms like a planet. A bunch of ideas slam into each other, form a larger idea, their gravity starts to attract more ideas, and presto- a new play is orbiting the sun of my soul. One of the later ideas to smash into this new planet was one of the other art works from the contest- a porcelain axe titled "Everyday Is Like Sunday" by TR Ericsson. It too had to be in the show. And not figuratively- I mean physically. So now it's there, and gets used, and ends up covered in blood. Now the first draft is done, and it's time to go back into that world, and see what new things will show up, what as yet undiscovered moments, objects, and actions. I don't know where this play will end up- I don't even know if it will be part of the Rough Writers readings. I hope it does, but won't find out for another month. I do know I like it. A lot.

Two more things I want to tell you today.

One, there is a production of my play Burning the Old Man opening March 16 in Sao Paolo, Brazil. It's been translated into Portuguese, and is called As Cinzas Do Velho. If you are in Brazil, go see it. From what I've gathered through many conversations with the cast and crew, it's going to be amazing.

Two. I met a really excellent artist last week. His name is Thomas Och, and his work is unique and beautiful. Go check his web site out by clicking here. Here is a piece of his I really like- it's a photo of a person and a painting, merged into one piece of art.

So that's it for now. Go on out and get your theatre on, get your art on, get your life on.

AS CINZAS DO VELHO

Ashes of the Old. That's the title of my play Burning the Old Man, as translated into Portugeuese by Geraldo Carrara for the Brazilian premiere directed by Luis Artur Nunes, which will open in Sao Paolo in March. I'm very excited about this production- the people involved, whom I have yet to meet in person, are dedicated, interesting, talented artists. I have been writing back and forth with several of the key players, particularly Alexandre Cruz and Marcelo Braga de Carvalho, and the discussions we have had about the play have been exhilarating. It is something rare and wonderful to discuss a play you've written with people in another country who like it so much that they have translated it into their own language and are putting up a production of the play. It makes you really think about what you have written, and why it seems to connect with people. For some reason, Burning the Old Man seems to be the play I've written that has touched the most people. It's by far the best selling of my plays- which are available at both Indie Theater Now and Playscripts, inc., and has also been featured in several scene books and also in Acting is Believing- a book required is many acting classes. I don't know why it's so popular, I only know that it is so. And that's groovy.



I have a lot of writing going on at the moment. Things come in waves, I think. There are months where it seems like nothing is happening, and then there are months when everything is happening. Right now, I am working on a one hour musical in the style of Glee, re-writes for the June production of Rose Red; a new play based on a piece of art for the Rough Writers program at the Fine Arts Center in Colorado Springs; and also a weird paranormal comedy drama thing that involves two slackers, an old trunk, ghosts, and the song The Wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald. On top of that, I am directing two high school plays: Moon Over Buffalo at the Denver JCC, and Our Town at The Watershed School. And on top of that, I have to find a film editor who works with Final Cut Pro X so that I can get my first short film, Strong Tea, done and out to festivals. Makes me feel like Bilbo, when he tells Gandalf he's like butter scraped over too much bread.

Lots to do, so of course I get this cold/flu virus thing that seems to be attacking the world like angry aliens from the planet Suck-It. Whatever this virus is, it is nasty. I have never felt so sick in my life. It makes me think that maybe the Mayans meant to say that the end of the world would start in December 2012, and slowly come about through a series of fevers, sniffles, and coughs.

But do I let that get me down? Hell no. Time to kick it in the ass.

So visit these sites, buy my plays, like the Facebook pages, and do whatever it is that makes you happy.

http://strongtea-themovie.com/
http://ascinzasdovelho.blogspot.com.br/
http://www.indietheaternow.com/Playwright/kelly-mcallister
http://www.playscripts.com/author.php3?authorid=1062