@dramatistsguild 

It was somewhere in the late ‘70s.

I was working on a musical about Texas, writing music and lyrics, while my collaborators, Peter Masterson and Larry L. King were doing the book (based on an article by Larry).

Most of my musical “credits” were due to songs I’d written and had recorded – one by a young singer named Barbra Streisand… and others by established artists such as Mabel Mercer, Bill Evans, Miriam Makeba, Harry Belafonte.

But actually, I was barely out of the BMI Workshop and, in theatre savvy, we were mostly newcomers.

We were excited about our Texas musical and had met a woman who wanted to produce our show. She’d had a dazzling career as an agent for major movie stars and now worked for a motion picture company. Her objective was to find an unknown new play, acquire the motion picture rights early, produce it on Broadway and then make it into a movie. “Our plan is to get a property early instead of having to buy it after it’s a hit.” A whole new approach. She said that Hollywood was about to land on Broadway and “the business of movies and theatre was soon going to change.”

She liked discussing the difficulties of negotiating her contracts. To hear her tell it, her ideas were unappreciated, it was an uphill battle, everybody was against her, no one knew how hard it all was, and she wished she could “destroy the Dramatists Guild.”

What an odd thing to say, I thought. What was the Dramatists Guild? It sounded Medieval.

Why would she want to destroy it?

I’d never heard of it.

Soon after, the Texas musical opened and was an astonishing surprise to us all.

There were a lot of things that were fun about having a hit show. Having your calls returned, for one thing. And a poster, for instance. A wonderful poster for the show! It showed a shapely leg wearing a shoe, dancing out of a TV set, on a map of the big state of Texas.

Cute! Except… we noticed something.

It didn’t have our names on it.

WHAT?

No authors.

Nowhere.

We had been promised that whenever the producer’s name was displayed, the author’s name would be displayed, too. Pretty standard in the theatre. But our producer had decided not to put the movie company’s name on the poster at all. Said she “wanted to keep a low profile” which meant that she wasn’t obligated to put OUR names on the poster either.

So she didn’t.

It only took me a moment to find the Dramatists Guild. If they were a thorn in this producer’s side, they must be very interesting people.

It turns out they are, and for good reason.

They’re the ones who know a writer’s name.

They’re the ones who know that’s important.

They’re the ones who care.

For a long time.

And even after that.

Portrait of Carol Hall by Dan Romer