Process XXXIV

Thursday evening writing desk.
(Parnell's Pub
on Playhouse Square)

Something new, something different: in-person classes. Only taking two courses this semester, each relating to my major, and both on the Cleveland State campus. We are wearing masks, we are small but mighty, sitting apart from each other. The difference is apparent -- cross-talk, sudden revelations suddenly shared, and that most spontaneous of human reaction, laughter. All of these things were absent from Zoom.

And now I am writing a play. Or at least, I have conceived of one, which is a good stretch better than where I was two days ago. I dropped this question on Facebook: What’s the worst thing you or someone you have worked with has done as a form of sabotage in your place of employment? As a result I received numerous responses which have become the basis of a new work.

There is a lot of reading I will need to do, and to do it every night. Starting tonight, I guess? Most of the texts we will be covering in Dramatic Structure I already own, so that’s convenient. A class on structure, the other a playwriting workshop. Convenient.

Question: What do you want this work to achieve? It is a commentary on the post-pandemic service class. On Monday night I had no idea how I was going to produce a one-page description of the play I intended to write within the next two weeks. Four days later I am confident I will have it complete by Sunday.

Meanwhile, Mark Ravenhill ("Shopping and Fucking") has taken it upon himself to offer a free masterclass in playwriting on Twitter, just dropping nuggets of wisdom several times a day. Each one is considerate and meaningful and often very, very challenging.

What is the nagging doubt in this play I am conceiving, the question that won't leave me alone? Currently it is merely a puzzle, but that's just the plot. What is the puzzle of the characters? I don't even know who they are yet.