A month of rehearsals for my FronteraFest Short Fringe piece has revealed more clearly than ever why I am a writer and not an actor, nor a director, nor a producer. I'm useless.
I feel certain I could learn the required skills, but I don't have the temperament for these difficult jobs and I don't have the time or the desire to learn the required skills. It's a full-time job being a writer, at least the writer I want to be.
For the past month, I have written nothing. I've looked at my writing. Re-read some of it. Thought about it. Stared at blank pages.
Oh, I did a little rewriting of the FronteraFest piece. A few minutes here and there.
OH! and the big news. My full-length play "The Canard of Vaucanson" will be produced by Overtime Theater in San Antonio in May. I don't what this means. I mean, I know what this means... I'm just not sure what it means.
I keep flipping and flopping back and forth between projects that I have done some writing on, taken notes, done research, etc,. but aren't completed yet.
Today (and who knows, it may change tomorrow,) I am going to take the twenty-five minute piece I wrote last summer for FronteraFest that I didn't have the pull to get together for the Short Fringe (That was fine. Actually, it may have been a blessing. The piece I did get together with the help of several friends including the wonderful actor, Roxy Becker, was just excellent (made Best of the Week.)), and turn it into a full-length play. I already made a lot of notes for this idea, so...
*Harry Julian Fink, Rita M. Fink, John Milius, Michael Cimino, Magnum Force
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