My one-act is DONE. There’s an ache in my back that says I’ve been working too hard for too long,and that I’m nowhere near done yet. But the play is done, and that’s one more load off thecamel.
I’m not as happy with this one as I have been with the other two, for several reasons, none ofwhich have to do with my lovely, fresh, hardworking cast and crew. I wasn’t as confident in thescript–I still think I could have written better, given the time–and I wasn’t comfortable withthe length of the play or the time we had for rehearsals. Also I hated having two dozen props tokeep track of. There’s a reason my plays never have more than three.
Some of it, too, has to do with the way the directing class was taught this term. Memorizationquizzes without a textbook, twelve plays in three nights, every seasoned actor in the departmentin the class–I don’t get it. Patrick’s a better teacher than this, and he’s going to get afew letters at the end of term pointing that out.
But it’s done, and now I can spend two nights watching and two days writing code and blam, fallterm is over. Why do these things always seem to barrel to a crashing stop? Can’t I have a semesterthat just gently decelerates?
Permalink Comments off
