Grannies the world over like to say something retarded about God and opening windows... or something? I wonder if it works in reverse. I had the most amazing summer as a playwright! First there was all the success of MilkMilkLemonade, for which I'm really grateful and proud. Then I wrote a piece about health care for Youngblood that I was really happy with. (It occurs to me that I never wrote about it here, but it was called America, You Kill Me. and featured Nikole Beckwith* covered in blood with a wind shield wiper stuck in her side. At the end of the play she crushed Bobby Moreno's head with her boot and it splatter blood and brains everywhere. Big hit!)
Well, it seems God or whoever saw fit to close a damn window already. I just found out I didn't get into the Soho Rep's Writers/Directors Lab for the second year in a row. Insert sad trumpet sound here. Rejection sucks, but it's just part of the game. Entry to the lab is super competitive, so I'll try not to be too hurt. Also, in years past I feel like there were six writers and directors each and this year there are only five. I wonder why that is. Anyway, I'll keep applying because I'd really like to do it some day and, besides, it's good practice just to submit to any and all opportunities.
I'm also stoked for Jess Barbagallo for getting in. She's crazy awesome and talented and was recently in MilkMilkLemonade, for which Time Out wrote this little piece. She's an incredible talent and I hope I get to make theater with her again some day. Adam Greenfield is an acquaintance and fellow Seattle-ite, as well as being an amazing director so that's cool too.
There's just one thing that is sort of sticking in my craw about this. Katherine Ryan is one of the playwrights but she's also the Co-Chair of the lab. Meghan Finn is one of the directors but she's also on staff at Soho Rep. I noticed this happened last year too. It's not really that big a deal, it's just a little... I don't know exactly, but it bothered me today when i read the list and it bothered me last year too. Soho Rep is obviously free to choose whomever they wish, but I can't help feeling the teensiest bit... I don't know... miffed.
It's certainly not a big deal compared to something else that I got rejected from. The Boyfriend ran into the curator of an unnamed theater festival at a party and asked him point blank why he didn't accept my play. (The Boyfriend is kind of immodestly appalled when I get rejected from things, because he's awesome.) Said curator straight up told The Boyfriend that he didn't read my script and that he just green lighted his friends and people he'd heard of. Ouch. So I'm using that experience to soften the blow of Soho Rep, because really... it could be a lot worse.
I'll keep applying, obviously. I'll wear down their resistance if it's the last thing I do. If I didn't have some degree of tenacity I'd still be serving onion rings in a shit hole by the ferry in Kingston, Washington.
Like my girls, Reba and Beyonce... I'm a survivor.
*Nikole Beckwith backstage before America, You Kill Me.