Playwriting....tba

I think I’d like to write a play. Not a three act big budget, let’s put on a play, play. A ten minute play, maybe fifteen minutes. Maybe it’s not time to worry about exactly how long it will be.

I’d like to see how I interact the characters of which I don’t think there’d be too many in this first endeavor. I’d like to see how I could at first describe the set....for me that would be most fun....then, as in any story, have a conflict which must have some resolve within those ten minutes. Would it be two characters or three. The plot, which I don’t have at this moment will determine.

I used to write these little plays as a child. They were always supposed to be some sort of thriller. I remember writing them with people I knew as the characters....those I went to school with. The ones I was jealous of would be the ones causing the trouble....the boys I had a crush on would be the heros and the good guys were, of course, my friends. And everyone lived happily ever after. That was then, this is now. Happily ever after? I don’t think so.

Keep the Gate Open

Newspapers continue to go plow through the gate, looking for the right path which will put them on the new road of how best to inform their readers. Some have stumbled upon some crystals, but no one has found the gold mine. The paper I write for has opened their gates wide in this quest, leaving behind most of their long time stringers (that's me) as well as an editor or two. I was told my stories would go into a folder to be passed along to the few on-staff reporters. What does that mean? Will they publish my all ready completed assignments and will I know about it? Or will they take my ideas and re-write them, then publish? If so, what are my rights? And, then, of course how many bridges do I want to burn along the way?

I try to only allow 24 hours tops when something doesn't go my way with my writing. Whether it's a rejection....really, how could they!.....or a source has folded....or in this case, who knows what might happen, it's just not happening today. My 24 hours have passed, time to walk through my own gate and see what's out there. Probably many things I haven't paid attention to. Many new ways of doing things I hadn't considered.

This blog popped up first in my mind. What to do with it...where to take it. Do I make it an outlet for the memoir I'm working on? That's a good idea. Do I use it for musings on writing and observations. Another good idea. I think it will be a bit of both. I can always morph off to another blog if I want.

At least this will keep me writing every day, which is my overall goal. I'll leave my gate a bit ajar for now, in case I need to come back and sit for bit to ponder what's next. That's whats nice about your own backyard. You can come and go as you please.

A glorious hour swim today. A mixture of laps with a floating stretch when done. The white noise in the background, the smell of the chlorine, the water clear within its blue. It's all very zen to me. I don't hear anyone and rarely think of anyone. I do think about my writing, but even that comes and goes, though the thoughts which are important seem to stay somewhere within me. I don't ever want to give up my swim.........it's the only place I am in touch with all of myself for an extended time.

I have time on my hands this weekend. This hasn’t happened in months. I’ve always had articles to write or the holidays to attend to. As Jonathan would say, as if by magic, I have none of that. I’m a bit freaked out, at the same time I’m moving on with the idea this may be a good thing. And how should I take advantage of it?

I do want to write….write for myself…..I can feel that need for expression welling up. The difficulty is beginning a piece…especially one I’m not quite sure where it’s going. I’ve never been able to overcome that one. Even though I know….I’ve seen it dozens of times…..it works itself out as it goes along. Always does. So I’ve got to trust the story….if the story is told right…….why who doesn’t like a good story?

The Candlewood Writer's Workshop

The Candlewood Writer’s Workshop has become, quite unexpectedly, a most exuberant experience………who would have thought?

The exuberant part wasn’t where I was heading when I formed the group. The primary focus was to encourage the writing….have each of the participants become, first more secure, then begin their own climb up to whatever peaks they wanted to tackle in order to take the writing to higher levels.

We started by learning the benefits of commenting on each other’s work. Oh, they were so kind and careful at first, alert to giving praise, then tentatively making suggestions, sometimes prefacing with “Now, this is just my thought…just an idea.” Some resisted, they wanted to justify why they wrote what they did…they wanted to explain it. And it went on for a while like that and then….as if by magic…they got it.

“Ah, you’re right. The reader isn’t sitting next to me waiting for me to explain what I wrote. Oh, I see…..I have to make sure what I want to say is in the writing. Oh, why didn’t you say that earlier?”

It was Tracey who first wrote a quirky little piece and submitted it to a Skirt Online….100 words or so….cleverly done….and she won. Woo Hoo….she brought confidence to the group. Then Beth, with her stream of thought sense of humor, submitting to a Chicken Soup for the Soul series, after work shopping the piece with the group….it was accepted. A big deal. Chicken Soup books get thousands of submissions. Now Sandy submits a travel piece to a contest. “What, you won the trip to Ireland?” She did and took her whole family along….to the Castle.

They support each other…encourage one another and are overjoyed as they see each other’s writing get better, clearer, succinct….now their individual voices are coming through.

I treasure these women. They have given so much back to me. They’re excited by their writing which excites me. They have incredible, creative ideas on what they want to say and how they want to say it. They care deeply about each other and after three years together I know things about each of them, as they know about me, that other close friends have no idea about. Writing can do that for you. It explores, then brings together cohesive thoughts and introduces you to a unique voice. Your voice. And it makes you feel safe enough to divulge some of those very private emotions which no one else knows about. Such gifts, for all I did was invite five women to come into my home every other week to work on their writing……it was really that simple.