I hate (not “extremely dislike” but hate) when people say, “I write because I HAVE to write.  The words are just bursting out of me and I NEED to get them down on paper.”  How pretentious can you get?  These people seem to think that the rest of the world will say, “Oh, what passion he has!  I simply must know what his work is about.  Please!  Please let me read it!”  If only…

The absolute worst part of it is they’ve probably convinced themselves that this is how they really think.  If this is true, then you have a mental problem and should be seeking help.  I’d like to start here with some personal honesty.

I write because I think I’m pretty damn clever and that what I have to say is of value and people should read it because it’s important and run-on sentences aren’t the worst thing in the world.

That’s how you do pretension!

God willing, you’re the same kind of person.  If you’re not, then this isn’t the blog for you.  If you can’t admit to yourself the reasons for your passion then you’re in the wrong place.

I really think most creative writers (playwrights and others) feel the same way.  Why else are you doing it?  It sure-as-shit ain’t glamorous and you’re probably not amongst that precious few making a decent living from it.

So, starting with our bit of personal honesty (admitting is the first step and all that) we can focus on what we really want.  It’s the part when your work is up on the stage with an audience out front and you think, “I made those people laugh/cry/think/feel/care.”  That’s the satisfaction.  I don’t get that same feeling when I finally finish a work and think, “Thank god I got those damn words out.  I was gonna burst!”

Do you agree?  Am I way off base?  Leave a comment and let me know!

There’s a smarter way to do this.

That was the thought that broke the dam. 

There’s a smarter way to do this.

It’s a stupid cliché but we live in a new age.  The living in the future (which is now) really has changed everything. Business is done differently across the board so why is the playwright’s life about the same? (Except for getting paid far less comparatively then we did 50 years ago.)  Why am I working so hard, doing things exactly the way people have done it for years, and getting barely any results?  Computers can do so much for so many ways of life and yet I’m still licking stamps and sending my plays out with a wish and a prayer.

One night while trying to submit another short play to another (unpaid) festival, I thought about all that. 

And then it hit me.

There’s a smarter way to do this.

I’m still playing by the rules.  Then, the next thought hit me: “There are rules?”  So, I went to the computer and tried to see if I could lay them out for myself.

The old rules:

You, the playwright, will sit in front of your little keyboard and struggle to peck out a new play.

You will do this in your free time because you have to have a “real” job.

You will send your precious work to publishers and theaters like a nervous job applicant with a resume.

You will wait three to six months.

You will be graciously granted a production or you will be rejected with nary a reason given.

Rinse.

Repeat.

I stopped writing there and looked at what I had.  Then the quiet thought in the back of my head (that I think has always been there) spoke up again.

There’s a smarter way to do this.

I felt like I was Neo seeing the code for the first time. (A reference you need to get if any rest of this is going to resonate with you at all.)

The rules are there and the paths are laid out but, I don’t have to follow them. 

I can cheat. 

Well, okay, not cheat, but I can bypass those “traditional routes” and make my own way.

So, I opened my mind (Not like that) and decided to invent some new rules.  Rules that exemplified the life I wanted to have.

The New (sexier) Rules:

You, the playwright, will write plays in smarter, faster ways.

You will use systems that either handle the hard work for you or “trick” yourself into doing it.

This will be your “real” job.

You will have publishers and producers begging you for a new work.

You will set the time frames.

You will pick and choose who gets the privilege of producing your work.

Rinse.

Repeat.

Look at those rules.  Those are some sexy rules.

So, yeah, that’s all well and good.  It’s nice to want things Andy, but how do we all go about it?

I’m so happy you (probably) asked.  

And the answer is: Beats me.

Sorry.

I don’t know exactly how everyone is going to accomplish it.  I don’t even think it’s possible for every single playwright to do.  Some are too stuck in their ways and some are too full of themselves to imagine a different way of working.  I seriously don’t think that most people can wrap their heads around it conceptually.  To see the code for what it is.

But for the rest of us…

Well.

There’s a smarter way.

Ready to take that red pill?