Some of you may be aware that I am a playwright.  For those of you who did not know that…well…now you do. 

Yes. I write plays for the stage, and my latest creation, a play called Blessed Event is about to be published and promoted nationwide by a publishing company called JAC Publications and Promotions, which publishes plays and hawks them to ,theatrical groups, including those on Broadway.

When I signed the publishing contract with JAC, I informed them that I already had an agreement with a regional theater company called The Windham Theatre Guild, which is based in Willimantic, CT, to direct three performances of the play. Because I had made the agreement with the Windham group before signing the publishing contract, JAC allowed them to grandfathered in for the three agreed-upon performances, and not charge them royalties. (If JAC had not agreed to do this, I would have simply signed my royalties for the three performances over to The Windham Theatre Guild, which, presently, is hurting for funds.)

At first, I was going to direct the show in Willimantic by myself. However, I realized that, since I wrote the thing and it was my baby, perhaps I might be a little too close to it. Also, as in the last show that I wrote and directed, I wanted the feminine perspective in the direction.

So, I picked a young woman with whom I have acted onstage and whose talent and theatrical sense I have always admired and respected, and I asked her to co-direct the show with me. Being a good friend of mine, and having read the script, she jumped at the chance, much to my delight.

Casey McDougal is an intuitive and extremely talented actor who always brings such energy and character to any part that she plays. She has an innate sense of theater and timing, and I thought she would be the perfect choice to co-direct the show with me.

Gordon MacDonald is a highly acclaimed muralist who travels the country doing exquisite commissioned work. Two of this artist’s pieces are on permanent display in Willimantic – one on the side of building for lucky passers-by to view, and the other adorns the wall of the hallowed Main Street Café and Willimantic Brewery.

Gordon designed the set for the last play that I wrote, and he was delighted to do the same with this one.

Henry Millman is a gifted set designer for off-Broadway productions who always brings a unique slant (sometimes literally) to work he does onstage. He was happy to collaborate with Gordon to do the same for my show.

Deb Siegel is a lighting designer and costume designer for The White Horse Theater in NYC, which is a just-off-Broadway theater. Like all of the rest of folks listed here, she is a good friend of mine, and she offered her services to me as a lighting designer when she found out my play was being produced.

As I sat at the production meeting the other night with these wonderful artists and my producer and stage manager, I remember thinking to myself, This play is important to me. I wanted the best working on it. I got the best. The very best.

What was so gratifying to me was to see all of these talented professionals working so diligently and collaborating so well with one another. Gordon, Henry, Deb and Casey all had a gleam in their eyes as they once again looked over the script that their friend wrote, and then showed their ideas on how they planned to put their skills to work to make the show a masterpiece.

I saw the pride and the enthusiasm the sprung forth from their words and their beings as they discussed options and logistics for my script.

The feelings I got watching these good friends of mine was much like the feelings I got watching the audiences during the performances of my first show and the audience at the dramatic reading of this new script.

I watched those strangers listening and watching the words that came out of my head, and I saw how those words effected them. They laughed. They cried. They gasped. They nodded. They were deeply moved . . .

By just words.

Simple, every day words.

It is a tremendously humbling experience for me to see my words interpreted by artists, (set designers, sound designers, FX designers, lighting designers and actors) and watch how they are translated into actions and emotions on the stage that deeply affects an audience to the extent that the audience takes it home with them.

There is always one point in time when  I realize that the play is no longer mine. It belongs to the artists now. They own it. They bring it to life. They make it true and recognizable as a human experience.

And, in fact, the play was never really mine anyway. I know it sounds cliché, but there is a lot of truth in the statement that, after a writer creates the characters, the characters take over and write the story.

I begin writing a scene and have no idea where it will go or what will happen in it.  It’s as if the characters are living entities who channel their ideas and their words through me.

And when the play is complete, I never know if it’s any good or not until I hear the audiences’ responses, and even then, I’m convinced that just one more rewrite would make the thing even better.

I’m lucky to have good and talented friends who can assimilate my ideas and want to bring them to life onstage.

I’m lucky to have found a talent inside of me that makes me happy and fulfilled.

I’m lucky to have the life that I have that allows me to do such things.

And, at all times, the play’s the thing.