August 13 Part II
There’s a play waiting to be born.
As I read the NYT Arts & Leisure section this morning, the first line, the last line, and the characters appeared. It’s not quite ready to be written yet, but it will be. Soon.
Those of you familiar with my process knows what that means. I have to write plays straight through, without interruption. Everything else goes to hell without the hand basket. It doesn’t matter what I “have to” do. When it comes to plays, once the Furies land, I’m possessed.
I was going to work on “Ris An Abrar” for BIAW over on Villa inTuscany, but I think it might be the play.
I can’t ignore the articles. They must be finished.
But I can feel the play forming in my soul.
And, if I don’t give myself over to it completely when it’s ready, I’ll lose it. The play, I mean. Not sure about the soul.
The play is the only format that demands this type of dedication from me. It’s usually worth it in the long run, but boy, oh boy, what a toll in the short run.