Last week I went out to dinner with some friends who had read my blog (hi Fi, Marcia and Dave!) and so knew what I was working on but not what I was working on.
That is to say while I’ve blathered on about finding a premise and character development I actually have said what all that was working toward. i had assumed that people knew that – I guess by osmosis? I’m not sure. In my mind I’ve told so many people I though the world knew!
I’m working on a play called Rewena. The conceit of the play is that the audience is a class who is coming to learn how to make rewena (which is a sour dough bread). It is a one woman show which is played in real time (eek!) in a working kitchen (yes it will be the bane of set designers and stage managers alike).
The guts of the story is Aggie (the woman teaching the class) had once taught this recipe to a young boy who is now a finalist on a cooking show – the final is airing at the same time she is teaching this class…
I think that’s all I can say without giving it all away.
Yesterday I finished the first “draft” (it doesn’t really feel complete at the moment ). Usually when I finish a first draft I’m on a high…but yesterday? Decidedly not so. It was like the planning/outlining had taken the “heat” out of the writing – the rollercoaster of “how the hell am I going to end this?” was just a ride on a miniture train around a park…whee.
I think it felt a little deflated because I was obsessed with time – which to be fair will be pretty important when it being played in real time – but has fettered the tangents that usually pop up in a first draft. And sometimes those tangents blow the story wide open.
Which has led me to ask myself – why do I write? If it is for thrills (as the previous paragraphs would suggest) then there are easier ways to get that. It is not for fame as it is always a surprise to me that people actually read my work at all or are in anyway interested in what I have to say. Actually talking to “the Public” – EEEKK! – I will have a terrible day when I have to speak at the Devonport library (it’s not until that night so I have a whole day to imagine how I have no idea what I am doing). And again – there are faster and easier ways to get that (though perhaps not with dignity intact).
So the plan is now to let the script lie for a few days (I’m reading a gigantic text book “The Seven Basic Plots Why We tell Stories” by Christopher Booker), then I’ll print it off, read/record it, time it and perhaps play it as I make rewena. Then I’ll be reading/listening for obvious rewrites and maybe doing this all again.
Perhaps I’ll revisit the outline and the character work I have done to dig a bit deeper.
In other news a Devonport kitten has adopted me. She (she is a she as she’s a tortie) hangs out in front of my writing shed or jumps in the window to sleep on my armchair or sofa. I think she’s someone’s kitten (she looks well cared for and smells of flea powder) so she’s just visiting. Absolutely no kittens will be checked with my luggage on my way home. She’s just visiting. Like me.