not being boring

Well, it's not real--yet. But hopefully it will be one day. Right now, Unorthodox! is being sent around for possible second readings and possible production. I've been out of touch for a while, doing job interviews, taking a bartending course, writing, dealing with sick kids (only my own) so it's been a bit hectic over here. However, I still haven't lost track of my writing goals.
I have an acceptance from Errant Parent, who will be publishing an article I wrote in March. I'm also gathering info for an article I want to write on the non-fiction side of things exposing some issues that certain people do not want exposed. That's all I'm saying for now on that.
I was wondering if there are actually people who live normal, stable lives without much excitement, drama and other issues. Sometimes I wonder if it would be better to be boring and not be so extreme. And then I wonder if I was boring, would I have anything to write about?

doing the can-can

Sylvia Plath is quoted as saying "And by the way, everything in life is writable about if you have the outgoing guts to do it, and the imagination to improvise. The worst enemy to creativity is self-doubt." I can't agree more. I keep thinking that the saddest question is "what if I can't?" but I don't think that that's an option anymore. Ms. DeMaria, my second grade teacher, used to tell us that "there's no such thing as can't" and I didn't really understand how that was even possible. In retrospect, I'm going with the idea that we can do anything as long as we believe that we can. And since I have no choice anymore, I'm taking all of the self-doubt and sticking it in a canvas bag filled with rocks and dropping it into the ocean. After all, I keep saying that I'm going to change the world. I should probably exhibit some confidence, or at least have some to exhibit.
Instead of doing my Nanowrimo novel this month like I'd planned, I've been ankle-deep in revising Unorthodox! and creating some new pieces. I currently have seven pieces in submission, not counting plays, and I'm looking for a place to host a staged reading of Unorthodox! or better, someone to take it on and produce it. That will take a bit of work on my end, but I'm willing. I'm also continuing to put together the stories for the short story collection I've been threatening for a year now, and I think that I'm very close to the point of searching for an agent.
As an aside, check out the pictures from our reading at The Creek and The Cave. You can find the link on the side bar of my blog. And friend Erica Sherman photographer on Facebook. She's the excellent photographer who gave her Saturday to do photos for this endeavor. I cannot thank her enough for a job beautifully done.
I also just realized how nice and proper I am on this blog. It's a great foil for the say anything approach I take to writing....

A little bit on the first official reading of Unorthodox!

So, we did it. We had the first official reading of Unorthodox! I say "we" because at some point, this stopped feeling like my personal project and started feeling like we all had something to gain. We were given use of the theater at Long Island City's The Creek and The Cave, readers came out from all over, old friends and new came to listen, to consider, to criticize and to congratulate.
There is something incredible in hearing two dimensional characters granted that third dimension. My readers brought life to my characters and insights that I never would have gotten without their help. Yesterday's reading gave such depth to the issues in the script and really showed me where the problems were. Most of the things they pointed out were things that I did think needed help, however, I couldn't be sure before this part of the process. New issues were raised, new voices were heard. For the first time in my life I felt like I could see the future--and the future is cozy with revisions. And it's all good.
The positive feedback I've received has had me on the brink of tears all day. To be regarded as a serious artist honing her craft has always been my goal. But especially as someone who has always suffered with feelings of self-doubt, to have constructive criticism that didn't hurt (yes, that's why it's constructive, I get that!) and be able to walk away feeling like I can take this higher is an amazing feeling. I cannot, for the life of me, understand why I ever left play writing in favor of straight fiction. It may have had something to do with the pain in the ass margins--but I'm not sure. What I do know is that my teaching career seems to be at a standstill since I cannot find a job. I know that I'm giving a few theater workshops. I also know how much I love where Unorthodox! is taking me. Maybe something new is being born here. I'm just going to ride it out and see where it goes.
I also want to make a point of thanking all of my friends and family who have stood by me in the writing, the rewriting, the planning, the reading, and now in the revising of Unorthodox! I could not have gotten this far without all of my wonderful and amazing people. Their support and love has proven bottomless and I hope they know just how much I appreciate them all, and how in awe of them I stand. I could thank them for days on end and never exhaust my gratitude. All I know is that when we take this thing to the top, I expect to be celebrating with those who were there yesterday and then some. My people are just incredible and amazing, still, after all these years.
Okay, enough, before I get all weepy. Got to get that edge back now so I can pass out and dream up some more insane inspiration.

Preparing for UNORTHODOX!

It's been a while. I've been busy. Yeah, I know. Excuses, excuses. But let me explain.
An old friend of mine has a friend who is a professional actress. She has a friend who is a director. This friend of hers agreed to let me use her theater for the first official reading of UNORTHODOX!, the play I've been working on since April. The original reading, scheduled for September 26, was canceled due to a lack of people up in the boonies by me who were willing to read. So now, we're moving the reading down to a theater space in Long Island City. I'm totally psyched about this. Like, you have no idea.
There are still a lot of loose ends that need to be tied up, and I don't think that any of the people who've been involved in UNORTHODOX! have any idea just how grateful I've been for their support. Friends who've been there from the beginning of this thing and those who are just new to my insanity have been wonderful. I have old friends who've agreed to read, new friends who've agreed to read--it's just incredible how people will come out to support each other.
I've also been working on my theater/improv for educators workshop that I'm scheduled to give in November. And I can't help but be a bit fatalistic. So, when the reading is over and I'm home again planning my next move, then I'll relax and be thrilled that I managed to pull the whole thing off.

some laughs

This has been an insane week. I say this as I periodically squeeze out a "yow!!!!" from sitting too hard after having taken my first cycle/spin (spin cycle???) class and then a yoga class to follow. At any rate, this week I made a contact at the local college who will post my cast list for his theater students. Tomorrow, I'm going to reserve the small meeting room at the library to do an informal reading of UNORTHODOX! I'm pretty stoked. I'm working on a one page synopsis of the play to submit to get it workshopped and then produced. We'll see how that goes. I also spent a good deal of time this week creating cover letters for a bunch of jobs that can sort of be considered in education. I've found that if I even get acknowledgment of having applied for a particular position, it's like a major victory. If I manage an interview. . . whoa. I think that at this point, if I land a job, I'd be incredibly thrilled. I can see this future scenario:

This Future Scenario

by becTime: The Future.
Place: The old folks' home.
Bec is now old, like 31. (Work with me, people. When have I ever given the correct age?)

Bec: What the hell am I doing here with all of these old people?
Old People: Shut up!
Bec: Old people!
Old Person: You're 91!
Bec: Yeah, only if by ninety-one, you mean thirty-one!
Old Person: Oh, go break a hip.
Bec: Shut up, liver spot.
Old Person: Bectard!
Bec: Speaking of which, I remember back in the Second Great Depression, circa 2010, when I worked my butt off to finish my MA thesis and renew my lapsed teaching certification (which lapsed while I was on maternity/childcare leave, back when I thought I would be a mom forever) and there we were, a family of six and one dog, trying to get by in an America that was economically unfamiliar.
Old Person: Who are you talking to?
Bec: To whom are you talking?
Old Person: To you.
Bec: I was correcting your sentence. You ended with a preposition.
Old Person: I have grammar check for that.
Bec: (sighing) Anyway, so there we were, living in our very modest house, wondering if we'd make it through the year. One day, I get this call from a company. "Would you like an interview? We bought this list from a list of playwrights and writers who came very close to making it big until the country had to close down the arts due to budget cuts and increased homelessness among the socio-economic class formerly known as the middle class who used to support the arts."
Old Person Two: I think that was me! I think I called you!
Bec: Easy, Grannie. Let me finish speaking. So anyway, the call was from Pickle Pushers Incorporated. They wanted to hire me to find new uses for pickles, since there was a pickle surplus due to the inability to sell pickles, which by then had become a luxury item. Most Americans were walking The Path to Starvation. It was a slow path, as many were obese, but it was an effective path. By the time The Second Great Depression ended, Americans were in great physical shape. But I digress. So Pickle Pushers Incorporated offered me a job as a pickle pusher. They felt that with my teaching experience, writing experience, and experience as a camp director and staff developer, that I'd be the perfect person to sell the world on this new product called Pickle Putty. It was a mash of pickles that was supposed to work like spackle. Except that it didn't. But it was a job and it payed the mortgage. And back then, that's really all we cared about. Selling out our ideals in order to pay our bills. Sacrificing good teachers to stupid professions so food could be put on the table.
Old Person: Are you almost done with your speech? I think they're serving creamed spinach in the dining room.
Bec: Anyone wanna go halfsies on a pizza?

©Rebecca M. Ross 2010

creatively writing someone else's story

I want to take a second and thank my new readers and followers and let you know that if you are reading and have a blog, to please comment with your url or send me a dm on Twitter and I'll add you to my blog roll, if I haven't yet added you. I may not always comment on other sites, but I do try to read up. And no, I'm not taking any quizzes.
This week, I started a big writing project with an old friend of mine. I'm interviewing her and will ultimately write a play about certain aspects of her life. While I cannot go into detail here, I want to talk about the process.
I'm not sure if I'm shy or introverted, and if I am, I tend to come off as being extroverted and not very shy at all and I'm guessing that's because I overcompensate, making me actually normal in that department. For this project, I'm actually interviewing her on some very personal subject matter, one which requires me to be not shy, not introverted and at times, not very subtle. These are things I'm good at in certain circumstances, but here, when I'm asking about things that most people would never disclose, I have to be subtle yet direct. I have to ask the right questions so that I can then form a play around her story. She's become the stem of a story that I'm hoping will blossom brightly around the stories she's sharing.
I've never worked like this before. Usually the idea is mine, the story is mine and I own my characters. Now, I'm working within a certain sphere of reality where I will have to employ a creative approach to the telling of a story that exists in reality. I have to figure out how to work the stage, how to organize the characters I'm using, and how to actively tell this story and achieve truthfulness and accuracy in the telling.
I had an idea as to how to begin, but as the interview process continues, I'm finding that my original ideas need to be scratched and I'm constantly starting again.
How do I handle this?
Right now, I'm focusing only on the interview process and I'm burying my head in the novel I've been working on. The way it usually works is that if I don't focus on my story, it will come to me. So then I have to wonder, if I don't focus on getting a job, will one fall into my lap?

in which i take on the world

So I finished writing and editing and formatting Unorthodox! and sent it to my first theater and am hoping for good things, you know, like a reading. I have to query other places, and I've already queried a few, and then I'll get it out there as well. The other day I wrote a one-act called No Teacher Left Behind for consideration at a theater in Albany. My hope is that someone of some influence will see it and give me a teaching job, a writing job, a million dollars, a steady paycheck or any combination of any of those. I'm supposed to be working on my anthology submission (which is due on August 31 for consideration) but I can't get my head in the right place for the topic.
Of course, there are lots of topics that I can't seem to get myself to focus on, one of which is the 150,000 out of work teachers in the US. So the job hunt continues. I'm trying to market myself as an education consultant/staff developer. I also do theater, improv and writing workshops for kids and teens (and adults, if desired.) But, I digress. This teaching thing is a nightmare. Who knew I'd move back from living overseas into the financial hellhole that used to be the US? The only good thing that's come of this is my one-act play. Although, it's been my understanding that playwrights generally don't make too much money which makes me the perfect playwright!
I just don't understand how it is that there are no jobs for teachers anymore. I mean, I understand, but I just don't understand. And what will happen to America as all of the jobs dry up? Will we all live on the streets while our homes sit, empty? Will we, one of the most advanced countries in the world, have rampant poverty? Will my children, the children of parents holding advanced degrees, grow up underprivileged while more and more jobs get sent overseas and our government turns its back on its people like so many other countries?
 I wrote this play, No Teacher Left Behind. I believe it can go somewhere. I still believe that I can change the world. I believe that through my writing, through my teaching, that I can help change things and make the world a better place. I want to speak for those with no voice. I want to bring light to the things that people don't see or choose not to see. I want to make people see things differently.
I will not let this horrible job market and economy discourage me. I'm making my comeback right now. Look out world. I'm taking you by storm.