Well, you know. Fame being a relative term. Got my royalty report from my publisher. Last couple have been big fat zeros, so I wasn't expecting anything. And, lo! There's always room to say lo. A theatre in Tennessee bought the play. AND they PERFORMED it!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Multiple exclamation marks, they say, are a sure sign of a diseased mind. You freakin' betcha. Mon play.
(This poster is actually from the Illinois production. I don't know what the Tennessee poster looked like, I haven't been able to find it. Why do you fail me, Internet???) So today, I'd like to talk about the experience of having your play performed, if only because that happened before it was published. The Illinois one, that is. Not the Tennessee, which came after. Let me start again. The play was workshopped through the Batavia, Illinois theatre group Albright Theatre Company. Not actually where I live, and there are groups closer to me, but these people are so lovely and welcoming, I feel quite at home there. The workshop was a fantastic experience, and I'll go into it some other time. After all was done there, I copyrighted the play. Then I sat on it. Why didn't you get it published right away, I hear you say? Well, I'm glad you asked. This is owing to some confusion which is probably entirely on my part. Play publishers say in their submittal instructions that they require a play to have been performed. This makes sense, as a play needs to be able to work on stage, and what better way to make certain? However, I was not sure (still am not sure) if a "performance" also included a workshop performance, or if they mean a performance performance only. Anyone know? So I waited until such time as the theatre should decide to attempt it. Which they did! Such awesome people, such great friends! I still can't thank them enough. They also permitted me to sit in on the auditions. Not the casting, I left before that. I wanted to be able to inject my opinion, but not too much. At the point of performance, or going-to-be-performed, a play becomes a group project. It's not just yours anymore. So I wanted to be clear that this was, to an extent, the directors' (not a misplaced apostrophe, there were two) baby. I also sat in on rehearsals, about one every couple of weeks, again not to overstay my welcome. I took notes so I could make certain anything really really important wasn't neglected. Never going to have that chance again! Then I attended every performance but one (I had tickets to the Nutcracker). Houses were packed! How thrilling! I mean, it was a Christmas play with a large cast which helped. :) So, opening night. Oh, excitement. Oh, butterflies. Oh, what an experience I shall hold always and shall never have again. I ordered a dress off Modcloth just for the occasion. It cost $50! (I don't spend that much on a single article of clothing. Ever.) I haven't worn it since, either. I should probably do that. My parents came in from New York State; we got a sitter for the kids as the first performance was night and past their bedtimes (they saw it next week). Then we all went out to dinner before the show at a little restaurant right across the river, overlooking. Did I mention the theatre's on the river? It's on the river. The restaurant was right fancy and bedecked (ooh) with Christmas lights. Magical. We walked back across the bridge and got to the theatre 20 minutes early. Butterflies. I wasn't worried. I knew the cast had it down. Just so excited. Wondered if anyone would realize the writer was in their midst :). Hoped everyone would laugh in the right spots (they never do). Hoped people would laugh, period. The performance went smoothly. Most did (do NOT talk to me about the one that didn't). And people liked it! Or seemed to! What an ego trip! Top of the world, ma!* We waited afterward while I had to congratulate and give hugs to the cast and directors. Then we all piled in the car and went home (yes, we got the kids). We sat up talking about it for a while. Then it was nightnights time. Brushed my teeth. Got in my jammies. Climbed into bed. And thought, "Did that just happen?" Very surreal. Think about it, though. What else are you going to do? This must be what happens after actors get Oscars and such. Things go on as normal. Life goes on. But for me, it'll go on with this amazingly special memory. One of the best experiences of my life. I will never forget. Never never never. Brain cells, I'm looking at you. *It also bears mentioning that a friend I hadn't seen since like grade school- reconnected with her through Facebook- also flew out to see the play!!! Right?? I don't deserve such good friends. People are amazing.
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Rebecca FrohlingWriter, dancer, actress, mother, me. Archives
February 2019
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