People in general have no idea how insecure I am about this whole playwriting process. I could gloat about how it seems as though I’m gradually developing a positive support group in the community here — and I must admit the guys at the bagel shop downstairs have been remarkably supportive. But what is that, really? So there’s this guy who lives upstairs who likes to come down for a bagel and has a halfway interesting project going on. So what?
To their credit, the “guys” to whom I refer are Paul, the night manager who has a degree in Psychology; and Josh, the swing shift worker who has a degree in Acting. That’s a good blend, considering the subject matter. There’s also Mary, the choir director at my church who played Eliza Doolittle in My Fair Lady, and this fellow David who is the Artistic Director of the local community theater, who got his MFA in Playwriting and Directing from the University here. I’ve discussed my work with a handful of other people, but the obvious course of action is to find some kind of writer’s workshop.
When I ran into David the other day, I asked him if he thought it would be possible to audit a playwriting seminar at the University. He seemed to think it would work if were to email the professor who teaches the class; and then, if I didn’t hear from him for a few days, just to walk into the building and announce my desire. When I mentioned this to Josh last night, Josh also said they would almost certainly let me do that. He then directed me to the building – so at this point it’s only a matter of working up the fortitude.
It might be a good idea for me to print out the script first, what I’ve got anyway. Basically, since whenever my last “progress report” was, I’ve written up to p.53, or about midway through Scene Four. There’s a good chance that if I start now, I can finish Scene Four this morning. Then maybe I can print the pages out at the library. It would be nice to show up with hard copy in hand, willing to let somebody look at it if they like, before they decide what to do with me.
Yes – this is the obvious solution to my woes. The writer’s block that I occasionally encounter may not be as severe as the one earlier blogged, the one that kept me at a standstill for three years. But the impasses are painful. They slow me down, and they need to be addressed. It’s time for me to get off my rump as far as presenting myself to the Performing Arts community here. It’s not that I’m not thankful for the support I’ve thus far gleaned – it sure beats wandering the streets of Berkeley trying to maintain my sanity by composing music out loud after gang bangers hit me on the head with guns and stole my laptops.
But it’s time I did things according to reasonable protocol. It’s time to break out of my shell. It’s time to come out.