roareen

Check it out! I won a contest with my writing and now get to officially write about the thing I love most in the world!! Check out the introduction to the blogging winners:

http://rentoffbroadway.blogspot.com/2012/03/meet-your-new-official-bloggers.html

Wichita, Kansas. The Orpheum Theatre. Pinkalicious. An audience of over 200 people.

I emerged for part 1 of the coveted "cupcake fairy" dance, which consists of me in a tutu, ballet slippers, a ribbon with a stick on the end, a foam cupcake on my head, and a toothy grin. The touring costume is slightly different from the NYC one: The ribbon stick is half the size and the cupcake headband has no comb attached (you know, the part that actually holds it to my head). Naturally, towards the end of the little ballet frolic, the cupcake fell backwards and hung around my neck. To avoid having it drop to the floor, I bent my body in an awkward Hunchback sort of way, and made it through. I wasn't quite the poised ballerina I had hoped to be, but it could have been worse.

And then, come Part 2, it WAS worse.

I ran downstairs to the dressing room for a bobby pin to hold the headband in place. I felt REALLY clever, This would go wonderfully now. I call Part 2 the "Evil Cupcake Fairy." I am about to turn "Pinkalicious" RED (a travesty in her world), and so I put on an evil/seductive face to forewarn the children that trouble is ahead. And oh, it was.

I've used the larger ribbon stick in NYC SO many times that I have memorized its weight, how much time it takes to loop around and fall back to the ground... I was not used to the half sized tiny ass ribbon. As I spun around, the stick somehow flew out of my hand, and the ribbon wrapped around my head. What ensued was in fact, the "distress signal" from "Team America." I became a flailing marionette puppet. My hands free of the ribbon, I had to keep moving, and so I spun around and maniacally waved my arms about in a possessed, drunken fashion. I noticed cast members standing in the wings, taking it all in, trying not to fall onto the stage in spurts of hysterical laughter.

Finally, I retrieved the ribbon from my head, except that I did this by grabbing the ribbon and not the stick. In a panic, but still 110% committed, I began to swing the ribbon around, causing the stick end to circle at the audience like a ninja's nunchuck. I could hear the snickering and jeers from the crowd. Finally, in the last few moments, I got back on track, exited with my head held high, and then collapsed in a fit of laughter backstage that caused tears to fill my eyes.

Children's theater, folks. It's a horse of a different color. A pink color.

NOT Ok, Cupid.
I went on an internet date. It's not something I am proud of, but I AM proud of the fact that I put myself out there and made myself vulnerable and tried to experience something new. I have sworn off internet dating since a debacle that happened back in 2004. Though I am still not emotionally ready for anything serious, I at least realize that NYC, with its millions of people, can be a lonely, lonely place, and that it would be nice to have someone to take me out and you know, pay, once in a while.

I got talked into making a profile, and in 2 hours, I had over 35 responses from men. That's when I realized I had accidentally checked off the, "interested in casual sex" box. I quickly remedied that. Eventually, one response stood out amongst the others. He had a sort of scruffy, artsy hipster look and his messages were in my kind of language: Lots of funny words and innuendos. We kept up an e-mail correspondence for about a month until I finally agreed to meet in person.

I was to meet him at a bar on Houston Street before heading to Rockwood Music Hall to hear his friends gig. Live music seemed like a perfectly acceptable first date. I managed to exit at the wrong end of the subway and got all sorts of turned around. I wasn't late, but I had to text a couple of times to ask about cross streets and such. Now, it says RIGHT THERE on my profile that, "My sense of direction rivals that of a small houseplant." I admit it, clear as day. It should be considered an endearing flaw.

I finally made it to the bar, still 15 minutes earlier than we had planned, mind you, and he said to me in a condescending tone, "How long have you lived in New York? Please tell me you just moved here." I explained that no, I was just never in this area much, I prefer to stay on the grid. "This IS on the grid," he said. Okay. Fine.

I took a seat next to him at the bar and proceeded to order and pay for my own glass of wine. The live music inside was SO loud that it was utterly impossible to have any kind of conversation, and on a first date, the first few minutes of conversation are KIND of important. We tried screaming into each other's ears but...I'm a singer. I hate loud places. It just isn't worth it to me to yell over music and strain my chords. The over amplified band began playing a song that I did not recognize as being a "Chaka Khan" hit. Apparently, that made me ignorant in the ways of pop culture.

His burger arrived and he said, "I'm going to eat this now, so I probably won't talk for a couple of minutes." I let him enjoy his burger. Then he said, "Um, you can talk to ME while I'm eating it." He just THRUST the conversation in my direction, making me do all of the work... while he chewed. He asked what instruments I played and I proceeded to tell a funny anecdote: "I play the piano and a little bit of drums. I play just enough drums to put it on my resume, and because of that, I booked a theme park gig that cast me in this Stomp like show with really intense drumming. They just took my word for it that I could play. I learned the entire show in 36 hours somehow, and ended up being AMAZING!" (I'm STILL damn proud of myself for that!) His response? "Does it also say 'Modest' on your resume?"

Now, here's the thing. I love guys that are cocky and arrogant and treat me like shit. I do. However, for a guy to get away with having that sort of a personality, he has to be good looking. Like, REALLY good looking. There is a certain level of good looking where people can get away with anything. But this...was not the case here. THIS guy had no RIGHT to act as mockingly as he did towards me. I should have peaced out right then. But I'm a nice person and I like to give people second chances and the benefit of the doubt. So, I accompanied him to Rockwood.

We stood in the back, waiting to hear some more loud music which we couldn't talk over. During this time, he didn't once ask me a question about myself. He didn't compliment my appearance, either. Not that that's a requirement but I had on skin tight jeans and boots and the hair was all curly. I mean, I TRIED for this guy. Nothing.

The band turned out to be great. Everyone in it was better eye candy than my date. I ordered a diet coke. He said, "I got it." A whole 3 bucks. Thanks so much. After the set, he met up with some male friend of his that had also been watching the concert. (A friend with whom he had been texting for the past hour. Everything on his phone seemed to be more interesting to him than me.) The three of us went outside. I tried to engage the friend, asking him questions that would allow him to talk about himself. The two of them carried on for twenty five minutes. TWENTY FIVE MINUTES. As if I wasn't even THERE. When they began to talk about the MTA, I chimed in: "You know what I hate? When I'm on the subway at 10am and I'm napping, and a Mariachi band comes on and plays at full force! I don't wanna hear Mariachi music at 10 in the morning!" To which the friend replied, and I quote, "I like Mariachi bands. They are a very hard working people. I hired one for a party once." All said with a very serious, no-nonsense expression on his face.

This is when I began to think about the cardinal rule of improv: "Yes, and..." In improvisation, no matter what your scene partner says, you must agree with it, run with it, and add to it. I wish my date and his friend had taken a couple of classes in this fine art. Literally EVERYTHING I said was shot down, dismissed, or just plain ignored. Of course, I felt it was MY fault. I always see myself as inferior. I have to stop doing that.

"We should go say goodbye to some people," said my date's friend. The two of them went back inside the bar. I thought they would just be a minute. I stood out there...for fifteen minutes. FIFTEEN MINUTES! I texted my date, "Hey, I thought you'd just be a minute, it's gonna take me a while to get back to the Heights. Should I wait or are you gonna be a while?" He responded, "I thought you would have followed us in." Really?? It's not like he came back for me or told me where to meet him inside the bar. (And I looked. They must have been backstage in a curtained off area.) I texted, "Okay, well, do you want me to wait for you?" And he texted, in no uncertain terms, "I understand if you have to leave." And I walked away. Crying. The pretentious douchebag didn't even have the decency to come back and say goodnight. Isn't there a kind of social norm to ease the awkwardness at the end of a date?? You say, "Thanks for coming tonight, maybe we'll be in touch," with a hug and a kiss on the cheek? Or is that just me? I would NEVER leave someone standing on a street corner for 15 minutes, just wondering and waiting. I felt worthless and ugly and disposable...all of the things that I usually feel, which is WHY I don't date! Why would I WANT to PUT myself in that kind of situation? But I took a leap and I did it...and that's what I got for it. My poor, fragile ego takes everything to heart and I just can't handle it.

Waiting for the subway, tears in my eyes, the man next to me struck up a conversation with me. He was a short, round, sweaty, middle-aged nebbishy glasses wearing Jewish lawyer. It turns out, HE had just come from an awful internet date as well. We ended up talking for the entire hour home, and I even let him walk me to my apartment. Of course, nothing romantic would EVER happen, but when he exclaimed, "What was WRONG with your date tonight? You are funny and smart and GORGEOUS," it was just EXACTLY what I needed to hear at that moment. This funny little man was a little gift. I, myself, may be a nebbishy Jewish man on the inside...but sadly, I'm just not attracted to those types. Still, at least during that conversation, my faith in myself and my ability to engage someone was reaffirmed.

It took this long to try dating. It's going to be a long time before I'm ready again. NOT Ok, Cupid. Not Okay.

I will preface this by saying that I am not a person who likes change. Ever. Knowing this, I will try very hard to give reasons to back up how I felt about the changes I witnessed tonight in the new production of Rent, as compared with the original. (The original being a production with which I have a 15 year history.) Because of this long history, Rent and its characters are like old, familiar friends to me. Tonight, while there was some comfort and familiarity, a lot of it was jarring. It was like being introduced to strangers, or trying to remember your family members after you have had amnesia. All that's left are remnants. Although Mimi got lucky in the end, you cannot resurrect your beloved friends after they have died. Yet, that is what I felt was happening while watching this production. It just can never be the same.

Why did the original version work? Well, many reasons. But one was the SIMPLICITY. The set and staging were so bare bones that the focus was on the story; The music; The actors connecting to one another. It was raw and powerful and simple, with just a couple of metal tables and a cat walk. Tonight's jungle gym of a set with its moving and spinning platforms and video screens...was SO DISTRACTING! Plus, it cast so many shadows on the actors that half of the time, you couldn't see them. Also, much of the choreography was so busy that the actors were out of breath and unable to sing. What is the point of giving actors so much to do that they can't do their main job, which is to tell a story?? The "Tango Maureen" especially was this choreographed extravaganza that was just entirely unnecessary. Too much. And the spinning whirlwind of set in "What You Own" with the flashing screens... The point of the song is that Roger and Mark are feeling disconnected and are trying to get back in touch with themselves and the world around them. All that this scene accomplished tonight was disconnecting the audience from THEM. Enough with the spinning!

And isn't "Take Me Or Leave Me" supposed to occur somewhere in Joanne's apartment?? The girls were climbing ladders, straddling banisters, they were up, down, right, left...why?? Just freaking sing to each other. Climbing around like monkeys without intention is just silly.

"Out Tonight" was unspecific and messy and all over the place. It was like...how many positions can I get my leg into as it rests on 27 different levels of the set? No one in a strip club audience would be seduced by that routine, as sexy as she is.

Then there was the curious flip-flop staging. For instance, for no reason at all, Benny and Mr. Grey were moved to a stage left table during La Vie Boheme, causing Maureen's mooning to happen down stage left as well. Stage right and stage left were often directly swapped in mirror image from the staging in the original production. "We want to make it different but not TOO different." Was that the thinking?? It was JUST different enough to annoy the crap out of me.

I did like some of the new staging. In "I'll Cover You," while Angel's convertible red sparkly costume piece was a bit much, it was cute to tie it around Collin's neck like a cape and play out king/queen and Romeo and Juliet balcony fantasies. It was playful and true to the lyrics. In this instance, climbing around the set made SENSE. The new choreography in "Today 4 U" was also fabulous. Angel is a street performer. He SHOULD be dancing up a storm. "Contact" was also very well done. The big white sheet is no more. Instead, Angel is hoisted up into the air by the company, and thrusted towards Heaven. It was beautiful. I was moved to tears as always during the "I'll Cover You, Reprise," when a hole is left in the line up where Angel had once stood. Except this time, Angel now sat on his perch, staring out like a statue...and its like...we can't grieve for him if we're looking at him! The point is his ABSENCE from the stage at that moment. Let the boy exit!

There were too many literal settings that seriously took away from the suspension of disbelief and the power of imagination. The Jeffersons were in front of a projection of a wealthy interior home. There was an IV drip in Angel's hospital room. Gone is my favorite symbol in the entire show...the looming shadow above Roger as he sings, "One Song Glory," his own immortality casting its eerie glow.

The music wasn't messed with too much. (If it ain't broke, don' fix it!) Although, I was disturbed by the cuts in "Christmas Bells." Random cuts...the only ones made to the show. Did they think no one would notice?? I noticed. "Goodbye, Love" also segwayed into some weird glockenschpiel tones when Mimi entered. I get the idea...change the music to fit the mood of the new character but...it didn't work. I missed the warm, deep tones that used to accompany her. Also, there were a lot of piano clunkers during "The Tango Maureen..." The band also seemed so removed, sitting on their own top platform. I really missed watching them rock out in the back corner.

The costumes were done by the original designer, Angela Wendt. I don't quite understand why some costumes were kept the same and some were changed. Mimi's entire Act 2 outfit was identical: The pink vinyl dress, the leopard coat, the green gloves... Why Angela thought that was more iconic than the blue spandex pants that we all know and love, I don't quite understand. However, I liked all of Mimi's new costumes and thought they fit her character just as they should. Maureen's costume however...what the hell was THAT? She wore the dark blue leggings, instead of Mimi, and some sort of yodeling Heidi dress. Is that supposed to make her more...Bohemian? It was AWFUL. I'm not just saying this because I have played Maureen before but...Maureen would NEVER wear that! Angel's new costumes were...interesting...this ugly white half, wig thing... but he managed to work 'em anyway.

The cast. It's no secret that one of the reasons I saw Rent as many times as I did was to see certain cast members who captured the characters in a way that resonated deeply within me. They were "the real thing." Tonight's cast, with all their multitudes of Broadway credits, felt like the 18th replacements. Sure, there were some standouts but, there just is no comparison to the people who made "Rent" what it is today.

Matt Shingledecker as Roger: I HATED his "One Song Glory." He did the first two verses in this hushed, over whispery tone... it literally sounded like he was mimicking Roger in some "Forbidden Broadway" spoof. He then proceeded to "act" the song, when he just needed to FEEL it. I couldn't help thinking that he could really stand to take a class with rock guru, Sheri Sanders. However, as the show went on, I enjoyed all the different colors he brought to Roger. He wasn't just "angry," as many Rogers have been. He was tender and sarcastic and playful, and I did like when he added in some characteristic Adam Pascal growls. I mean, if you're going to imitate, at least imitate the good stuff! Shingledecker is just soooo young. I liked the previous Rent casts being older. They'd been through some shit and it showed. Fresh faced kids putting on tight pants do not believable recovering drug addicts make.

Adam Chanler-Berat as Mark: He didn't read like a 20 something who was an outsider and down on life. He read like a peppy, spritely, optimistic 15 year old. I wasn't digging it. Later on, he took off his little beanie and let his mess of lopsided curls run free. When he did so, he looked eerily like Jonathan Larson. When I realized that, it added a whole other dimension to the show. He is obviously very talented. I think he will find "Mark" soon.

Corbin Reid as Joanne: It's hard to do anything original or exciting with Joanne, the least fleshed out of the characters, but she was great. She was sassy and sexy, had a fierce voice, and it was easy to see that Maureen could fall for her.

Annaleigh Ashford as Maureen: Okay. I loved Annaleigh in "Legally Blonde." She stole that show. I was happy to see that she didn't play Maureen like the ditzy blonde I had imagined she would... she was flirtatious and sarcastic and "over it." However, her "Over the Moon," what WAS that? I'm not saying I can't like another interpretation. Nicole Scherzinger's take on it at the Hollywood Bowl was UNBELIEVABLE. But THIS...I had to look away. I couldn't even watch. The screen behind her took away from her performance, the foot pedals she used to control the screen were a nuisance...I'm not even sure she understood what she was talking about. I certainly didn't understand. Then came "Take Me Or Leave Me," always one of my favorite songs in the show. I was all ready for these two girls to blow me away. Annaleigh did this really pretty, mixy version. Yes, she has pipes but...BELT IT, GIRL! COME ON! She sang it from a safe place in musical theater land. I was sorely disappointed.

Arianda Fernandez as Mimi: She is a goooooorrrrgeoussssss girl. But...She. Can't. Sing. I thought perhaps this mixy, whispy thing she had going on in "Light My Candle" was just a choice. Wishful thinking. She started trying to belt in "Out Tonight," and yes, the choreography is intensely physical, but she cracked alllllll over the place. Then, in "Another Day," she was back to the whispy stuff. How can you sing, "I live this moment as my laaaaast," without belting?? I am certain that many a Mimi in regional theater productions have had stronger vocals. Still, she was so beautiful and a wonderful actress and captured the essence of Mimi in a more familiar way than did anyone else on the stage so...I couldn't hate her. I just don't think her voice will hold out for another week, let alone the rest of the run.

Morgan Weed as Mark's Mom: She had rockin' abs. Really, what more can one ask for in a Mark's Mom? Everyone loves a token perfect body on Broadway to compare themselves to and say, "Well, damn, I guess I'm not on Broadway because I will never look like that." So, that is what she provided. I'll bet her Maureen is very interesting.

Nicholas Christopher as Collins: While he didn't look like any of the past Collins', he had a soft, kind face and a beautiful, buttery voice. He was very likable, and clearly the heart of the show.

MJ Rodriguez as Angel: Everything Angel should be. He could sing, he could dance, he could make us laugh, he could make everyone love him. Plus, he used all of Justin Johnston's riffs and come on, those were the best ones :) Kudos to this 19 year old!

Tamika Sonja Lawrence as the Soloist: FIERCE High C. Fierce. We waited for it and she delivered.

I don't know that I can see this over and over. It brings up so many emotions and memories, and while tonight made me remember all the reasons I love it so much, it also made it very, very clear that the things you love can never stay the same. Even just the new theater, the new location, the new feel of the seats... the entire community and all of the people in it that I knew and loved and that knew me, after years and years...are gone. And that void hits me hard, even while watching the one thing that always FILLED that void. Still, regardless of how the show is put on, the material alone is timeless and beautiful, and always will be. I am content knowing that Jonathan's words continue to live on both across the country and back here in NY, so that new generations who maybe didn't get the opportunity to see it the first time around can now experience the show that changed the face of musical theater forever.

Some of you may remember my "So You Wanna Be a Performer, " myspace blog, made famous when Seth Bisen-Hersh turned it into a song. (Check out Kristen Michelle singing it at http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=k-1yQ3LRZL0)

Now, years later, comes a similar day, with a much happier ending.

I woke up at 5am, painted the nails skittle colors, put in mah weave, and got to Telsey by 6:45am. There was already a line. Day one of "Rent" Equity Principal Auditions for New World Stages. I actually cleared this entire week so that I could sit every day at Telsey for hours on end until they took pity on me and let me in the audition room. So, I sat outside, on the concrete, in the bitter March morning cold for two hours, until the building was finally opened.

I must have fallen asleep in a chair against the wall, because the monitor's announcement woke me up. It was time to sign up on the official non-equity list, although he wouldn't know until 10am whether we would be seen. I liked the monitor a lot; He sported an old-fashioned handlebar mustache and a rarely seen "No Day But Today" t-shirt. I was number four on the list.

Meanwhile, a friend had signed me up for another audition downtown. I was number 91, and they started an hour early! Every 5 minutes she texted me, "They took the next ten names, hurry up!" (Because we all know that if you miss your number...too bad for you.) The monitor kicked us all out and told us to come back at 10:30am for the verdict. Off I went to Starbucks and then to a studio across the street to apply and perfect my makeup. Then back to Telsey, only to be told, "They will not be seeing non-equity, or Equity membership candidates, and they also will not be taking headshots. They request that you come to the open call on Friday. Here's a flier for it."

The "open call on Friday" is really a three hour publicity stunt so that a documentary can be made about all of the "Rent" hopefuls. People will be sleeping out on the street overnight to sing 16 acapella bars for some intern. And I was so prepared to do that. I just reallllllly didn't want to have to.

I left all dejected and sleepy and full of Tall Skim Chai Tea Latte, and ran to Chelsea Studios for Prather. (This company has called me back only once in about 7 consecutive years. Why I continue to show up, I am not quite sure...but I had a hot new dress to wear!) In the bathroom, (why do these blogs always involve changing in bathrooms??) I ripped out all of my hair extensions and changed into my dress and heels. I was seen pretty quickly, and rocked the crap out of my song. I was going out for Vivienne in "Legally Blonde." Bitchy, belty, brunette? Yes ma'am. Apparently that character is supposed to be tall. Alas. No callback. Fine.

I then ran to Nola Studios to try to get on the list for Gretna Theater, even though their appointments had already filled up. The monitor said that I should check back with her in 45 minutes, in case there were any cancellations. BACK to the bathroom, I put on a much more modest dress, and waited. A few minutes later, I received an anonymous text message from an angel. It said, "A friend told me that Telsey changed their minds about something. They might be seeing EMC or something, I'm not sure."

WHAT??? That was all I needed to know. I threw on my sweatpants and sneakers and couldn't get out of that building fast enough. Back on the subway I went, back up the Telsey elevator... I was out of breath when I approached Mr. Mustache Monitor and said, "I heard...(pant, pant) they changed their minds about something...(pant pant)...what's happening?" He took a deep breath and let out a long sigh. "If you absolutely cannot attend the open call on Friday, we MIGHT be able to squeeze you in." To which I responded, "Oh, that would be amazing, I have a matinee on Friday..." (A tiny white lie never hurt anyone!) He told me that he couldn't make any promises, and that it definitely wouldn't be before the hour long lunch break.

BACK TO THE BATHROOM AGAIN, I put the hair extensions BACK on, and donned myself in fishnets and you know, what I wear normally. Barely had I sat back down for two minutes when the monitor said, "They have a minute before lunch, get in line."

WHAT????

And then...it was just my time. In those few seconds before I entered the audition room, I started psyching myself out. I wanted to tell myself, "This is it. This is your one shot. This is what you have been waiting for and preparing for for 15 years. Don't mess this up. This means everything." And while those thoughts were certainly eating away at my brain, I instead said to myself, "You know this song. So, sing it." My heart was pounding, but I took a deep breath and went on in.

"Hey, how's it goin'?" I said, all chill, to the associate casting director. I gave my music to the piano player, took center stage, took a deep breath, and began.

Now, here's the thing...I used the song that is the most familiar to me. Recently though, I spent $100 coaching with someone to make it sound more "rock" and less "musical theater." Lots of riffs and back phrasing... It sounded all well and good for the half hour I got to practice the song in the session in this new way, but ultimately...that wasn't enough for it to really sink in when I'd been doing it differently for so many years. Let's just say...the back phrasing didn't quite go as planned and I got behind an entire measure. (Let me just take a moment to say how much I miss my voice teacherrrrr! But she is busy making her Broadway debut. So I guess she can be excused! lol) I barelled through anyways. My voice was strong and clear and warmed up and I was committed to all of my intentions, giving it tons of 'tude. I definitely didn't just get up there and sing a rock song, all generic like. There was definite Maureen flair. (Quirky, flirtatious rock-singing bisexual from Long Island turned East Village performance artist? Yep. That's a stretch. Come on.)

And then it was over, 30 seconds later. The casting director smiled and said, "thank you," (as they always do), and I thanked her, and that was that. I was just so happy that I don't have to sit there all week, that I got seen at all, and that I gave it a fair and honest shot. I can't imagine that I was better than the thousands of people they have seen, and have yet to see, and all of those people they secretly saw ahead of time with agent appointments... but I was me. And at the end of the day, that is all you can be. And I was proud of that. Now we forget about it and try not to wait. Impatiently. Excruciatingly.

Or maybe in 6 months...they'll keep a folder for replacements. Because we all know that THIS time..."Rent" is going to run forever. This wasn't my last chance. I am sure of it. NO DAY BUT TODAY!!!

That I could fall OUT of love as easily as I fall INTO it.

So...I wrote a play. I mean, it didn't just HAPPEN. I know I am primarily an actress, or at least that's how I publicly make a living, but I have been secretly writing since I was 5 years old. Stories, poems, songs, movies...anything. My teachers and my mother were always aware, but otherwise, I kept it pretty private. In fact, I have over 40 private journals chronicling my thoughts and adventures over the past 18 years. Writing has always been natural.

Writing is a lot of things. It's creative; cathartic; therapeutic; it uncovers truths; it helps you learn about your own truth; it's immortal. A live performance lasts for a moment in time, but the written play of that performance...is forever.

It's a terrifying thing to go public with an original work, especially if that work is very personal to you. Everyone says "write what you know," or at least, "write what you know emotionally." Stephen Adly Guirgis, a Broadway playwright whom I recently had the pleasure of working with at the LAByrinth Theater Master Class said, "When I see a play, I want to know what keeps the writer up at night." He said he wants to leave the theater wondering WHY the writer HAD to write this piece. What happened to him/her? What compels him/her?

If that is the criteria for writing...then I have followed it to a T.

"Down This Road" started with a blurry idea in 2006, but didn't actually materialize onto paper until 2007. I remember staying up all night whilst in Alaska, staring at the computer screen, knowing what I wanted to do, but unsure how to go about doing it.

Then in 2008, life happened. As it does. And as much as we can carry around regrets from the past or waste time wondering what we could have done differently, I decided to use all of the pain and confusion to create something; To artifically create my own sense of closure. NOW I had a premise. "What if?" What if this all got resolved? How would that go? What would that final conversation look like?

And I sat down to write. I wrote and wrote and wrote. Suddenly, the characters took on a life of their own. They began talking and telling me what they wanted to say. This sounds like insanity to anyone who has never experienced it, but really, as a writer, it just means that you are in the zone.

Of course, I didn't want this play to be my guts spilled out on paper in some haphazard way, so I read a plethora of "How to..." books on play writing and character building and others on how to unleash creativity and let it flow. Then in 2009, I had a fabulous opportunity to take a trial Skype class from the fantastic David L. Williams, whom I had worked with previously in the NYC Fringe Festival. It was a small class of accomplished writers and wannabe writers from around the country, all tuning in to the computer and reading each others new works aloud. Technology is amazing. The class focus was in developing one act plays. On the last day of class (which I attended from Buffalo while working at a theme park and feeling like anything but an artist), I heard my entire play read by others. It's a whole other world when you hear your own words back to you. "Really? Did I write that? Is that what that sounds like??" And then...you make rewrites. Lots of them.

Revision after revision happened in solitude. I sent out new versions to trusted friends- (Friends who give you an honest opinion, not the ones who just kiss your ass. Although, let's be honest, one or two ass kissers never hurts!) All of the feedback was constructive and helpful. Some suggestions I took, others I discarded.

I included a small scene from the play in "Fragments," a concept musical I wrote and produced just last year. Watching the audience react to my words and my music was a high unlike any I had ever felt from performing, and it all stemmed from just a sliver of presented text.

More revisions after that. Stephen King says, "Kill your babies!" Cut, cut, cut!

And then, realizing that there was no more to be done, and that the script wasn't going to do much good sitting on my laptop, I took a leap of faith and submitted it to the New Approach Festival. It is a first time festival of new works being presented by Sink or Swim Rep and Locust Theater Company. Out of a number of submissions, 8 were chosen, mine included.

This means that at the end of this month, the idea which has been in my head for the past 5 years, this completely emotionally honest piece of art, will have a public reading in NYC. I can't think of anything as incredibly exciting or incredibly terrifying. I am used to being ON stage. The beauty of being a performer is that when in a show, even though you bring a lot of yourself to the table, you can hide behind a character. That's why we do it. To be someone else. But as a writer...I will be sitting in the audience and ALL OF ME will be up on that stage. Everything I am, inside and out. That's about as naked as one can get in a room full of people...friends and strangers alike. Will I even be able to sit back, relax and enjoy the evening? Or will I be listening attentively to every laugh, every sniffle, every sigh of recognition, every bored shuffle in the seats?

The play is being cast tomorrow. In NYC. I am currently in CT, doing that working actress thing, and will have to leave it to the good judgment of the theater companies involved to cast it. (Although I must note that the experience here at the Spirit of Broadway Theater HAS been artistic, and NOT just a job, and I am very grateful for that.) It's 3:45am and I can't sleep, because I am thinking about tomorrow, wishing I could be there, wondering if their visions of my characters will match the ones I have held inside for so long. I trust them completely, but god, I wish I could be in two places at once.

I will, however, get to rehearse the cast and work closely with the director. (I don't like directing. I just like telling the director what to do! Yep. I am one of "those".) It is going to be pretty high tech as far as a reading goes. Two of the characters are songwriters, and it is necessary that the audience hear those songs. It won't be effective to just have a narrator read the lyrics. The songs will be recorded with the actress' voices and played for the performance. So much to do...so little time!

Those of us in the entertainment industry often take on a job just because it pays the bills. It isn't necessarily artistically fulfilling or thematically important...it's just a job. But THIS... putting something out into the world that is completely your own...this play is my baby, in a way. I think I spent SO much time on it because I didn't want it to be done. I didn't want to give birth. I didn't want the characters to stop talking to each other. But it is time to let go and let it have a life of its own. I am eager to see how it will grow and change along the way, and if it will affect, move, and have the same meaning to others that it has had to me.

Well, we'll see. It's a new chapter. "Down this road..."

The "Rock Band, Live!"cast was half asleep while this was being filmed... and when asked about how we enjoyed Ohio thus far...the answer was clearly sarcastic. But they didn't catch that, and left it in the interview. See if you can spot the hilarity! (I'm a bass...it was too early)

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oD0Vc3bQhc8

Photo Gallery and Article from King's Island!

http://projects.daytondailynews.com/cache/galleries/Entertainment/Music/060310rockband/

Fragments on Theatermania!

http://www.theatermania.com/new-york/shows/fragments_167003/