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Not Mandatory
Oct. 5th, 2009
04:58 pm - Monologue exercise: Brandi Nikolas
It has to be Maggie’s idea, because it never changes from year to year, and nobody apparently has the guts to tell her how awful it looks. It’s like this: you get to work at call time, some night in mid-November, and it’s already dark out, of course, and you see the trees. God, the trees.
There’s a stand of them in front of the theatre, I don’t know, young lindens, maybe? They look like every other deciduous tree by that time, stripped skeletal. What would make them creepier? Oh, I know! Those chaser lights, the kind that, I guess, you program the circuit to make them look like they’re running a loop. And they’re red, because of Christmas, or because of the U of U, or because the upholstery in the auditorium is red, just like every other theatre in the world. Or Maggie just likes red. Whatever. Normal people use all-white or all-teal or even rainbow lights, but whoever heard of all-red?
The effect is bleeding, bony hands, all of them reaching upward like “Hey, help me, I’ve been degloved!”( Read more... )
Sep. 23rd, 2009
11:29 am - Character study: Lucy Rasmussen monologue
When I was a kid, Dad always took me along to the grocery store, and we always stopped at the candy machines on the way out. I would buy a fistful of Runts candy and eat them in ascending order of preference: I started with the unremarkable banana pieces, and then worked my way up through the cough-syrupy cherries and vague citrus fruits to finish with the pink, heart-shaped strawberries.
Before I left for Costa Rica, Elliott made a mix CD for me to listen to on the plane. I hid it from Toby until he dropped me off, and then I saved it for the last leg of my flight. Twelve tracks, Elliott has this…thing with twelve. It was like a dozen pink heart strawberries, the confectioner’s glaze melting off in my eager little palm.( Read more... )
Sep. 19th, 2009
12:44 am - Ought to mention
The play I'm writing has bought out this journal, pretty much.
Major news will roll in from time to time about my day-to-day, but I'm on facebook and twitter, and...you know, I've never been the full-disclosure type. Really. Some thoughts and feelings don't need to go public, especially, as seems to be the case with getting older, when they're the same ones over and over again. Like...I did that years ago on Di-Land, and it just made for a weird-ass time capsule, really.
So, yeah. Mainly now when something goes live here, it'll be another character sketch, draft of a scene, dialogue bite, or other writing exercise while I work on this play. Maybe other plays. Maybe whatever other "creative" (guh) writing.
I'm letting you know. I plan to continue my (I think) judicious use of cut tags, because I understand some things might be more interesting to you than Julia's nebulizer or Maggie's sordid past or whatever. And I'm not attempting to appear mysterious and cryptic by saying personal stuff won't really headline anymore; just announcing that I don't feel like chronicling it.
Defriending based on this news will not be taken personally, and I am still reading you guys. But I just figured, major life events aside...I'm not as much a diarist as I used to be.
See you all on the microblogging train to hell!
blankSep. 10th, 2009
11:04 am
Character sketch exercise: Toby Carnahan
~~
Preparation always began with the spin of two dials: volume on the radio (tuned permanently to the country oldies station), and the oven temperature knob set to preheat 350. Today, the numbers climbed quickly, and the DJ seemed especially fixated on murder ballads. All that suited Toby just fine. ( Read more... )
Aug. 26th, 2009
04:18 pm - Plays within the play
MOTHER’S HEROES. Closing show of season; regional debut of a locally-popular musical, chock full of child actors and their attendant narm. Press copy says: heartwarming; magical; uplifting. Di’s typo in the ticket system: “Mother’s Herpes.” (The P is right next to the O; Di is neurotic about sex.)
A HIGHLY REGARDED MAN. Pretentious restoration comedy. Lackluster attendance. Press copy says: delightful; hilarious; comedy of manners. Elliott’s typo in the ticket system: “A Highly Retarded Man.” (The T is right above the G. Elliott is neurotic about his learning disability.)
SEAN TAKES A SHOT. New, independent play about angsty gay guys. The January show; ergo, quiet sales. Press copy says: critically-acclaimed; riveting; thought-provoking. Walter’s typo in the ticket system: “Sean Takes a Shit.” (The O and I are adjacent keys. Walter’s neurotic about his gay and his butt.)
~~
I'd been kind of wistful and melancholy all day when the DJ or robot-DJ at KYLZ played my since-forgotten e-request of Cheap Trick's "Surrender."
The song ended just before the battery in my Sansa gave out.
Big boost. Took it as a sign. Thanks, dude.
contentAug. 19th, 2009
creativeAug. 13th, 2009
listlessAug. 6th, 2009
08:33 pm
NEED:
airplane
wine
Atlantic Ocean
STAT.
Just have to hang on a little longer...
crisisAug. 2nd, 2009
04:27 pm
Dad played an acoustic set of Hendrix tunes by Frisky's grave just a little while ago.
Bisk had an unusual, almost psychedelic reaction to Jimi Hendrix. One time, we were watching something on vh1 and the opening strains of "Purple Haze" came on. Frisky's pupils quintupled in size just at the sound of it, and he started staggering around like he was on some kind of trip. If I remember right, he started spraying, too.
I think wherever he is now, he can hear Jimi play live, and nobody tells him he's not allowed to spray.
crushedAug. 1st, 2009
11:01 pm
Nobody else die for a while, ok? Elsewise I will kick your ass. Seriously.
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