"oh that familiar stiff yet out-of-control feeling..."
How I did it: worked on script for two years. finally came up with something that had a beginning and an end and some stuff in between. started dropping hints to friends about doing some readings/critique-swapping. garnered some enthusiasm from friends who i can only assume are total masochists on some level (which i suppose isn't surprising, what with them being writers too). set a date. had copies of the script made up. bought wine. made snacks. anxiously worried/hoped that nobody would show up. was relieved/terrified when they did. handed out copies of the script. opened wine and made small-talk. got down to reading it. contorted my face and guts a lot in that way that only hearing the words i wrote down spoken aloud can make me do. marked up the script as they went along. made notes on post-reading comments. slowly got diverted from script commentary to general university gossip. good times.
Lessons & tips: -wine is good, but having caffeine available to balance out the effects is key. i made a big pot of chai tea, and that seemed to be a good call.
-obviously, by the time you get to this stage of working with a piece, you hate it and feel like you should destroy it and move onto something new. if everybody acted on those impulses, there would be no art. the point at which you most despise something you're working on is probably the best time to expose it to a group of readers, because they will be newly impressed by ideas you have forgotten were good, and you're not too much in limerence with the work to take criticism seriously and consider changing things.
-if you have the opportunity to read the piece more than once, have different people read different parts each time. if you're only doing it once, stop at some point (say, an act or scene break) and switch up the parts. you're doing this in the first place to gain perspective, so the more different perspectives you can gain on each individual character, the more useful the experience will be to your revision process.
-the people who have gathered to read your script are doing you a huge favour, so be hella nice to them. this means firstly that you need to take their criticism gracefully (even when it makes you cringe, which some of it will, because the whole point of this exercise is that they are not you)--and realise that they are putting themselves out there in offering it just as you are in presenting the script to them. secondly, it means that you owe them an artistic favour of equal or greater value upon request. don't ask people whose art you're not interested in getting involved in.
Resources: in late december i suddenly found out about a student playwriting competition, which was useful in that it gave me a deadline that i need to have this script as polished as possible for. getting an external deadline was a huge push factor in making this happen, because otherwise i would have just kept telling myself that i would do the reading when i had the script as polished as possible, which would have been pointless, but very much like me. so. thank you playwright's guild of canada.
secondly, friends who are interested in writing and/or theatre will be your heroes in a situation like this.
thirdly, gato negro makes some pretty decent, pretty cheap wine.
fourthly, did i mention how fucking indebted i am to my writing friends right now?
fifthly, you'll want to find the cheapest photocopying in town, especially if your play is as over-long as mine is in its first draft. in my case, this was to be found at the university bookstore (4 cents a copy), but definitely ask around about this if you're not sure. that shit adds up pretty fast.
sixthly, i could never have done this without my mother's version of my friend's mother's chai recipe.
seventhly, if you learn to make good muffins, people will like you no matter what.
eightly, humility is key at a time like this (but it's for serious okay to laugh at your own jokes when they're delivered well by your readers).
Jan 24, 2009, 08:01PM PST
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