Writing About Writing

I loved being a writing major.

I also hated being a writing major.

I loved being a creative environment, spending hours pouring over great modern literature, rediscovering the classics, and of course getting to read and critique my peers' excellent drafts. I loved being allowed and encouraged (and required) to write for hours--both critically and creatively. I loved having deadlines to push me, and ideas that moved me. I loved being surrounded by people who were as passionate about words and language as I am.

I hated handing over a draft to my peers, or the critical eyes of my professor, just to have them vandalize my brand new baby with their red ink. I hated letting go of a piece that I wasn't totally satisfied with, knowing that their remarks would be brutal. Even more than that, I hated submitting a draft that I was content with...even more afraid of what their judging eyes would do to a piece I really loved.

Critique is necessary. It's good. It improved my work exponentially. It also hurt. It made me sad. It made me question my talent and my choice of major. And the fate of any future career prospects. My classmates were all so talented. Everything they wrote oozed brilliance. I couldn't string a proper poem together to save my life...or my grade in Christianity and Writing.

I kept writing. I kept passing my classes. I learned to be strong through a session of slamming. I sat in Bruegger's Bagels on Friday afternoons during our weekly Capstone class. Nodding with every comment, pretending to agree with my peers. Accepting whatever they said about my work, and trying not to take it personally. I would zone out. Looking directly into my classmate's eyes, but not really listening, I would let their face fade into a fuzzy state. I'd hear myself saying, "Mmhm. Yeah. You're so right. Thanks. Yes. That's a good idea. I didn't think about that." But I had no idea what they were talking about. I'd read it later, because I knew they had written it in red pen (in much more cruel terms) somewhere on my precious draft.

Writing is easy--the actual act of putting pen to paper; even the creativity, the idea generation, comes naturally. But giving that writing to someone else, letting someone else have an opinion about it, that's hard.

All of this to say, I haven't had anything published since I quit working for a newspaper. No one has read anything I've written outside of this blog and outside of press releases and marketing stories for SMIF.

That's about to change.

I'm writing a play.

I've been struggling to find a script I like for the play I'm directing this spring. Of course, there are thousands of fabulous plays already written--I'm not trying to suggest I could out-write a classic. However, my guidelines are strict. It's a very conservative school. Anything written in the last 100 years has to be seriously edited for adult content/themes and profanity.

I also have a very strict cast. I have a certain number of actors that need roles--good roles. They have earned the right to have a great part, and I haven't been able to find that perfect number of characters with great roles that I really want. I also have a few actors who want small roles. They want to be involved, but I need to be able to control which roles have fewer lines, so I can cast accordingly.

Thus the idea to write my own play.

The writing has been fairly easy. I've already drafted about 15 pages in a day. Yes, I still have a long way to go, but the characters are taking over and writing the story by themselves. I know the kinds of things I want to have in my plays (excessive physical comedy, strong/funny lines for women, etc.), and I'm writing these in as I go. I can literally visualize my actors performing this play even as I write. It's tailored to my stage, my audience, and my crew. It's perfect.

What's hard, even in this beginning stage, is knowing that at some point, other people are going to read this. They might not think everything is funny. They might not get it. They might even hate it. I'm going to need editors. Their critique is going to be harsh. My actors might not love it as much as I do. They are going to complain.

I'm going to get my feelings hurt. Anything critical said about this play is on me. No more passing it off as bad writing out of my control. I'm both writer and director now. Everything is my fault.

And that's both awesome and terrifying.