I finished a play today.
It’s a bit nonsensical to say, “I finished a play.” You never really finished a play until it’s produced—fully staged. And even then, you’re likely revamp it significantly for its second production, should you be so lucky. And even then, you’re likely to tinker with it here and there, again and again, as long as the play keeps finding productions. And even then, even after you’re dead, and can’t be anything but finished with it, the play’s still not finished, ‘cuz if you’re lucky, wise-ass directors for centuries to come will cut, revise and rearrange your text to suit their vision, or lack thereof. So...
Bottom line: plays don’t get finished. Not really. And hell, all I really finished is a first draft which is about as close to unfinished as you can get and even mention the word “finished.”
Still, finishing the first draft of anything is like getting to the top of the first peak in a long range. Number one, you can finally see all the other peaks; you know, at least, it’s possible. And number two, it’s a helluva better view up here than down where you started. An added perk for me is that I can send this draft in to the folks who commissioned the play and collect on the second payment they owe me, the third and final payment being due when I deliver a revised final draft.
I haven’t written a day log since Halloween. A lot has happened, but I’m not sure I’m up to cataloging it all. The best news I have is that my wife and I found a house to rent in Greenlake. So in two weeks we’ll be kissing Crack Alley good-bye forever.
The somewhat not-so-good news is that I found out recently that I won’t be going permanent in the job I’m currently temping at. They went with someone who’s been with the organization for nearly a decade and is way over-qualified for the job. I really wanted the job, and I really needed it, too. I honestly thought I had a very good shot at landing it, but I was wrong.
I finished a play.