Where have I even been???
There are really two answers to this question.
1. Held prisoner by a thousand tiny sopranos.
Tech week for my production of THE JOURNEY OF THE LITTLE PRINCE, a children’s opera starring exactly one hundred sixty-five young Bostonians with mostly very high-pitched singing voices, came upon me last week. Tech week came upon me like the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse. Tech week had its way with me and left me a shattered husk of a man who could only distantly remember what his inside voice was supposed to sound like.
But hey, we opened the show, and here it was!
Huzzah, the audience cheered! Huzzah for all the baby sopranos and for their surprisingly handsome and youthful director!
If by chance you are in the Boston area this Saturday, you can come and see it! Yes, you!
And yes, in case you were wondering, my coworker Suspicious Anna was VERY suspicious that I was directing an opera instead of writing case notes.
2. It’s so hard to start again.
It really doesn’t take much to pull me out of the rhythm of writing. When I’m in that zone, it’s so intoxicating and addictive. Two weeks ago today, I was enjoying my bloggery, and even more so my current Big Project, the second volume in my BACK ROADS CYCLE. Writing was, finally, once again, all I wanted to think about.
Then the the-ater came a-calling. Just when I thought I was out, it pulled me back in! (Which is a quote from something, but I only know it from parodies of the thing it’s from. The Godfather? Let’s assume it’s the Godfather.)
Theater pulled me back in and pulled me out of my fantasy La La Land, a place where I never have to use my Outside Voice when I’m inside, a place where the only actors I have to deal with are the ones in my head – and they take direction perfectly.
It’ s so hard to get back into the groove. Why is my creative brain so fickle? It feels like I’ve gone and sat down in a big comfy chair, and started watching DAREDEVIL, and now I can’t get back up. Getting up is from a comfy chair feels, to paraphrase Louis CK, like trying to get a ’74 Gremlin out of a snow bank. That’s how I feel right now about writing.
Also, can we talk about DAREDEVIL? Like, DAAAY-UM.
We’re gonna talk about Daredevil. Next week, I’m going to force myself to finish my series about how theater has influenced me as a writer. Then some stuff about Daredevil. Then, I’ll probably slip once again into becoming an apathy monster and hide under my bed for a while. Then maybe another picnic, because there’s some crazy stuff out there, and the X-FIlES is coming back, and ever since our last investigation, Field Operative MacDonald has been seeing Toynbee Tiles everywhere she looks. Then, more writin’ talk.
QUESTION FOR WRITERS AND OTHER ARTISTIC-MINDED FOLK: How do you get yourself out of your own comfy chairs? Is the trick just to never sit down?