Twenty-Five Years Later …

“Oh no, no! Most of the time playwrights are not even alive when their work is produced, and they certainly have no right to speak at a rehearsal!” I was admonished when, during the production of my first play, I protested serious changes the director made to the mental health of a main character. “If you cannot keep quiet, you may not attend rehearsals.” The lecture came from a theater department professor at Interlochen Arts Academy, where, as a sophomore, I took a class on playwriting and wrote my first ten-minute play. At fifteen I was no stranger to the written word, having sold book reviews and articles about growing up on a sailboat to newspapers and magazines since the age of ten. My short stories and poetry about the places my family visited were also published, won several cash awards and even earned me a scholarship to Interlochen, where I was a creative writing major.

The admonishment certainly worked. Not only did I stop attending rehearsals, I stopped writing plays entirely – for 25 years! After all, how could I possibly bear to watch directors take my work and perform such atrocities? Instead I threw my efforts into more short stories, feature articles, and news for radio and television. Always remaining close to theatre, I interviewed actors, directors and playwrights - but kept myself decidedly far from the creative fray that is production.

And so for more than two decades I remained happily a non-dramatist. That is, until I was pushed unexpectedly back into the role. Inspired by Metamorphosis at a local professional theatre, I shared one of my short stories merging myth and sci-fi with a staff member. He encouraged me to turn it into a play, and a local director offered to produce it. Shortly thereafter my trusted writing group encouraged me to rework another short story about a local legend into a radio play script, and a nearby radio theatre company jumped on it. Oh no, I was back to writing plays!

Fortunately, my friends also dragged me along to a Dramatists Guild meeting where I learned of the Bill of Rights and of course realized how erroneous my academic mentor had been. Since that day, there is no looking back. Instead I have merely dusted off old ideas, some enshrined in narrative fiction, others just gestating as notes and vignettes. For even though I thought I had sworn off plays forever, and considered that door closed for a quarter century, all the while I was still “wrighting” – researching ideas, creating characters and dialogue, adding to my knowledge of people and places and other nouns.

Now it seems I have something in production all the time, even if it is local and small. SoundStage Radio Theater, The Studio@620, StageWorks, The WMNF Radio Theater Project and other producers and directors gladly accept my works, and now it is a matter of deciding what to do next. Thanks to the encouragement of colleagues and the protections and structures provided by the Guild my creative energies have flourished in this new old media.

What had seemed a defeat was merely a setback. The thrill of watching a live audience react is so much more satisfying than reactions to the mere printed word. So now I find myself revisiting favorite ideas, re-crafting them for a new life on stage or in the studio. It is amazing how characters and situations I already know so well, dramatically take on a new life when embodied by a talented actor and wrangled by a skilled director. Having tasted this nectar, I won’t wait to be dead to be produced, when I can no longer grumble about the production. I know now that I have the Guild at my back, and half a lifetime of work just waiting to be re-imagined.

ddthompson@dramatistsguild.com