A Playwright's Journey from Page to Page

Blog #1: Backstory. Hello Fellow Theatre Enthusiasts, this blog marks the first in a journey that will lead me into what is anticipated to be the very long and harrowing process I'm calling "from page to page". Having completed several projects and watched them idly take up RAM space on the computer for the last four years like an app you never use but hope one day might come in handy, it was time to be a little proactive in trying to move my opus magnum along the theatrical continuum from (creative) page to (published) page. I prepare for a marathon, expensive and challenging journey that will make my last four years of writing seem like a Swedish massage with [fill in your own fantasy here]. It will most likely entail funding applications, dramaturges, directors, actors, producers, agents and publishers; all of whom will, no doubt, offer their own unique challenges and opportunities. It seemed perfectly reasonable to assume that other playwrights and literary writers might be in the same position or at least contemplating the same position, so it is with a little apprehension, self-consciousness and trepidation I submit this blog. Usually I deem such things as self-indulgences, not worth my time, and posted by procrastinating no-talents with too much time on their hands. Well that may yet prove to be an accurate character profile for this blogger, but the exercise may also be of some benefit to fellow procrastinating no-talents with too much time on their hands who are contemplating a more proactive plan for their slowly desiccating bytes that masquerade as some sort of opus magnum. Phase 1: Writing Writing creatively started late in the Summer of ’09—2009, not 1909—as an antidote to the stultifying strictures of thesis preparation. It soon became apparent that a play or two had been stewing for some time. Sure, I’d written my first play about Australian bushrangers holding up a Cobb and Co coach. You might have heard of it? It was called “Bail Up!” OK the only way you’d have heard of it was if you’d been in my Grade 5 class at a Brisbane State Primary School in 1967. As a teacher, it also became obvious that the writing lacked ‘experience’ in much the same way as a trapped adventurer having had to amputate a trapped arm, can in no way then call himself or herself a surgeon. I was a ‘first year’ student, full of hope, wonderful ideas and an irrational, insular self-belief, while at the same time being full of immaturity, basic writing errors, and ignorance. I lacked networks of industry people—contacts who could open doors and opportunities—the adage ‘it’s not what you know...’ holds true today just as it ever has. I also lacked knowledge of basic theatre and writing craft, what was happening on the ground right now, and what was needed to kick-start the ‘journey’. And worst of all, I’m an ‘old guy’ and old guys, unless you’ve got what other people want (status, fame, fortune etc), are invisible people. The good thing about being ignorant, is being ignorant. You don’t know what you don’t know and you still think you’ve got what it takes. The bad thing about being ignorant is being ignorant. You don’t know what the hell’s happening! People smell ignorance and inexperience a mile away and it’s difficult to get anyone interested in your work. I usually had to pay people to get them to read my stuff even then I was left with conflicting assessments and an empty pocket (see post Theatre Australia, 16/04/2011). I felt like one of those penguins you see on David Attenborough’s wildlife adventures. The one on the outside of the pack trying to find a way through a wall of tuxedos to the warmth and security of the middle cliche. Actually, at times, I wasn’t even sure this was my pack. I’d look down at my feet and they didn’t seem the right shape at all and even though I could see all the other fellas had an egg or two beautifully balanced under their furry stomach folds, when I looked at my ‘babies’ I had a stack of eggs all different colours and shapes jammed unconventionally into an egg carton. Sigh. What was I to do with 4 full-length plays, 9 one-act plays, 4 ten-minute plays, 1 film script, 2 radio plays, a documentary, a TV series, and scores of unfinished ideas? I cruised the scene looking at amateur, festival, community, indie and mainhouse productions. I read everything from Shakespeare, Ibsen, Stoppard to Churchill, Betzien, and Norris. I entered radio, one-act, mainstream playwriting competitions. I sent emails to everyone who would give me an email address: people simply stopped replying. In the end there was only one thing to do...just do it! So here’s the plan... Phase 2. March: Play readings. Get a group of actors together to read plays. Apply for funding for a dramaturg and/or director. Phase 3. April: Rehearsed readings: with or without a director/dramaturg conduct rehearsed readings in front of an audience. Survey audience and actors for responses. Choose suitable play/s to enter in the local Drama Festival. Phase 4. May: Rehearse plays. Phase 5. June to Sept: Perform plays. Phase 6. October: Find publisher. End.