Hmm, perhaps I am a sick freak

"I know, right? What kind of a sick mind would think that a chain of butcher shops inspired by Ed Gein was a good idea?"

Actually, maybe the question should be, "What kind of a sick mind even thought to allude to Ed Gein as a caption for this contest?"

For those of you who aren't familiar, the above is the cartoon from this week's New Yorker caption contest. Every week on the last page of their issue, The New Yorker publishes a cartoon without a caption, and invites the readers to submit their own. The hundreds (dozens?) of contenders are competing for, well I don't really know, but I'm betting the prize The New Yorker awards to the winner pales in comparison to the fact that winners get to brag about their caption being chosen. I mean c'mon - if my caption were to ever be chosen (not that I've ever sent mine in...their all humorless bastards anyways...don't know a good caption when they see it! Their content to just let captions that people put their sweat and tears into flounder in the pile! Um, ahem), I'd totally eschew the year's supply of Rice-a-Roni to just carry around the issue my caption was published in and shove it in every passerby's face, declaring, "Look! The New Yorker, one of the most intelligent and intellectual magazines written today, deems ME as witty and clever!" (Rightfully, the passerby would then pummel me with his/her issue of Cat Fancy)

And I can't even be honored for being the first to think of writing an anti-caption. Seinfeld made fun of New Yorker cartoons back in 1998, and every week, Daniel Radosh features his own anti-caption contest on his blog.

But I was a bit taken aback when, as I first laid eyes on this week's New Yorker contest cartoon, I thought of alluding to Ed Gein. What kind of a sick freak am I? One of my first posts on this blog was about how The Aristocrats joke could serve as a Rorschach test, and now I'm thinking the same holds true for the New Yorker caption contest.

Then again, the cartoon takes place at a butcher shop, there appears to be dancing Rockettes sitting in the meat counter, and weirdly, there is a hacksaw hanging in the background. An allusion to Ed Gein - or any other demented serial killer - seems inevitable. Maybe a Patrick Bateman reference is more current?

So obviously I can't send my Ed Gein caption into The New Yorker - how about this one?

"Using the meat counter as advertising space brings in WAY more money than the ground chuck ever did."

Sigh. I'm never gonna win that caption contest.

Just a reminder...

My play opens tonight, at the 78th Street Theatre Lab, 236 78th St on the Upper West Side. The festival starts at 8 pm. If you're dying to go (c'mon, I had to have gained at least one stalker! If not, why am I even blogging?), please visit www.theatervision-playtime.com for ticket info.

It's also playing tomorrow night, and possibly Friday night (if it's chosen as the best out of the festival). Here's to hoping.

Update on my play

My play, When Turtles Fly, opens in about a week. IF anyone reading this is interested, it's playing June 11 and 12 at the 78th St Theatre Lab (236 West 78th St, NYC). The festival starts at 8 pm, and you can get tickets at http://www.theatervision-playtime.com/



I went to a rehearsal for the play this past Sunday, and I was thrilled at what I saw - it's really something to see a piece of work you penned brought to life - like, actors were speaking and living the dialogue I wrote. Not to be too sentimental, but my heart swelled when I saw this. It's just a small form of validation, I guess.



The play will be great when the actors get completely off-book....yeah. I now know how every director I ever had must have felt when his/her actors were struggling with lines. Like, it's so close, it could be so good if these motherfucking actors would get their heads out of the clouds and remember this goddamn stuff. As a former actor, I can empathize, but I also know from experience that memorizing 20 pages worth of dialogue in two hours is entirely possible.



After the rehearsal, the director and I met and cut some more of the play. Here's the sitch: When I originally sent my play to TheaterVision, the company that is putting my play on, they intimated that they were looking for one-act scripts between 30 min and an hour long. I knew mine fell just short of 60 minutes in length, so I sent it to them.



They are now telling the director that my play, which at it's very shortest and speediest can only be performed within 45 minutes, that it can go no longer than 30 minutes. Not to mention, the director has had to eat a lot of the costs for the rehearsal space fees, and is constantly bothered by TheaterVision seeking updates on the day-to-day minutia of the play's production. At $20 a pop for tickets, TheaterVision is reaping a tidy sum on the performance of the three one-acts together (my play is part of a festival - two other one-acts will be performed the same nights).

Apart from pairing the writers with the directors, covering the fee of the spaces on the nights of the performance, and some minor publicity, I really don't know what role TheaterVision is playing, but whatever. Oh yeah, I almost forgot: I got invites printed up for the play, with the intention of inviting agents, and then I found out that I can't use them unless they have been approved by TheaterVision, and have their logo on them. Sooo, guess I won't be sending those bad-boys out to any people who can influence my career! That sucks!

What was I talking about? Oh yes, so the play can't exceed 30 minutes. We cut out some more dialogue, but odds are the play will run 45 minutes. But what can they do? Once it goes up, it goes up, and there's no way they can stop it from completion.

But let's focus on the positive. My director, Christopher Cohen, is really smart and innovative. He's my age, but I can see already that he has a promising career as a director ahead of him (despite his refusal to take my advice on a prop - if you're reading this Chris, you should know that my direction of a scene from Cowboy Mouth earned me an A in Intro to Directing! I know a thing or two about this thing you call directing!) Also: According to Chris, looks like there was a scramble amongst the TheaterVision directors to take on my script - during an initial orientation with the directors and actors, the actors got to talking, and when my actors expressed that they were doing When Turtles Fly, all the other actors and directors whined that that was the play they were hoping to get slotted with.

Did you guys follow that story? Maybe if I explained the whole TheaterVision process and how my play got a director, you'd comprehend what I am talking about....meh, but I don't feel like it.

Sorry if this post was completely incoherent, but I have a lot on my mind (oh yeah, and I'm at work, blogging on my boss's dime - makes me nervous and quick to wrap things up).

More later!

Is this retarded?

This is the business card I designed for the premiere of my new play (the invite will be featured on this blog soon). Ignore the smudging; pertinent personal info had to be redacted, just in case weirdos came across it and decided to, you know, do weird things to me.

I kind of felt like a fraud when I got them printed - do I really have the right to call myself a playwright ~ freelance writer? Hell, I don't even want to make a career out of playwrighting, but since the production of my play is the biggest thing I have on the career horizon, it seemed appropriate. "Hopeful Television Writer" didn't seem right for a business card.

I wanted it to look poor, as odd as that may sound. I wanted it to come across that I am a struggling young artist, because in my ignorant and confused little head, "Young and Poor" rings as "brimming with vast amounts of talent." That little doodle is from my own hands as well - does it have some kind of avant-garde, provincial cache?

Does it stand out from the other cookie-cutter business cards you see on a regular basis?

Even if it doesn't and popular opinion concludes that it is the least-effective business card to ever be created, oh well - too late now! This is what I have, and this is what I will use should anyone (karma-willing) ask for my information in order to contact me.

Holy crap - something I wrote is going to be produced

Sorry I've been lax on the posts - I found out last week that a one-act I wrote is going to be directed and produced.

I'm flabbergasted and flattered - it's a play I wrote on a whim and only sent out to a few places. One company, TheaterVision/Playtime, has decided to incoporate it in their Domestic Disturbances Festival, June 6 - 13.

This will be very weird, yet totally motherfucking awesome, to see something I penned interpreted and staged. I'm meeting with the director tomorrow so he can pick my brain, as they say. Here's a synopsis of my one-act, When Turtles Fly.

During a wait at his doctor's office, Robert casually picks up a magazine and starts reading a piece of fiction. When he finishes the story, he's stunned - the piece of fiction so closely resembles a part of his childhood, he's convinced it is about him.

Seeking answers, Robert tracks down the author, James Penwau, and poses as a reporter for the very same magazine he read the story in. During the "interview," it comes to light that Robert is not who he pretends to be, and he demands to know how James knew such intimate parts of his life. After a violent struggle and threats of murder, the two men discover that they once dated the same girl; she dated Robert, then later on, told James the tale of Robert's past.

But Robert wants more - he needs money from James to pay the medical bills he's incurred in his effort to fight testicular cancer. But James is poor, a guy who's last shot as a writer is the book of short stories he has just written.

In the end they come to find solace in each other's tough life - neither of them has had it easy, and it was glib to think that they were the only people who's ever had to suffer. In this shared trait, they see each other's humanity.

I was also going to say that both Robert and James find redemption, but I think that's for the audience member to decide.

If you will be in the NYC area June 11th and 12th, please join me at TheaterVision Playtime (1133 Broadway, New York, NY 10010) at 8 pm to see my show (and other one-acts as well).

God, this is crazy.