I'm in rehearsals for a play at the present and it's both exciting and a bit of a shock to my system. It's been a long time since I've been cast in a play with a traditional production schedule. I ran my own company for a couple of years and even though production was busy, I was devising the schedule myself and could afford to work around conflicts, work hours, and try as much as was reasonable, to make it as convenient as I could for myself. The last time I performed in a play in Boston, it was in a solo performance piece I had written and rehearsed mostly in my apartment. I did commit to making rehearsals as formal as I could but let's be honest, finishing rehearsal and being able to immediately fall into bed at the end of the night saved me time on the commute home.

I've also been thinking back to the days of being in college, when yes, a production schedule meant insanity, but in retrospect, it was an insanity with some very particular conveniences built in. For one thing, the performing arts building was less than a ten minute walk from my dorm. If I had even a couple hours break between class and rehearsal, I could head back to my room and take a much needed nap. Now if I have a rehearsal after work, depending on where it is in the city, I may have an hour or two before rehearsal, but that's not always enough time to stop at my apartment first. This awkward extra time sometimes means grabbing dinner on the go and killing some time at a Starbucks before you need to head to rehearsal. Back in college during production, I was able to have pretty much round the clock access to fast, cheap meals (ok so they weren't exactly health food), so at the very least I didn't have to think much about needing to cook a meal or cleaning up the kitchen afterward said meal. Oh yeah, and a dorm room is small. So unless you live in a studio apartment of comparable size, you are now responsible for an entire apartment or house, and that goes with it. In college, I was single during many of the shows I acted in, so going a few days without seeing my roommates felt very different than when I go a few days without seeing my husband. And can we just take a moment to appreciate that after a late tech rehearsal that runs until midnight, your "early" class the next morning wasn't until 9 AM? There's a HUGE difference between needing to leave your dorm at 8:50 AM and needing to leave at 6:50 AM for a day job. 
 
Ok, so I've been pretty generous with complaints about production and tech schedules. I recognize that these thoughts have been triggered by my recent realization that I have nearly three weeks ahead of me of nightly rehearsals plus tech week itself, and then two weekends of performances. With only enough time after my day job to stop home for about twenty minutes (give or take a few) before heading out for rehearsal, I have noticed that I'm most definitely not in college rehearsal mode any more. This is a different beast. It's time to try to play by some new and improved rules.

Here's the suggestions I've come up with this time around:
 
1. Prepare, prepare, prepare. Automate your basic needs as much as possible. Plan your outfits on Sunday night for the whole week, so that when you stumble out of bed the morning after a late night rehearsal, you don't have to waste time hemming and hawing over what to wear to your day job. Prepare a week's worth of salad's for lunch so that you can just grab one before work every morning. Cook a big pot of soup on the weekend so that you have something homemade to heat up before rehearsal. I once heard author Elizabeth Gilbert say that it's a pain to prepare for something in advance, but when the moment comes when you realize you have saved yourself some valuable time, you are going to thank your past self for the preparation. Sometimes when I'm in the midst of chopping ingredients for salads on a Sunday evening, muttering to myself that I would rather be sitting on the couch with a book and the cat, I have to remind myself that I will be grateful later that week when I have a healthy lunch. And yes, sometimes I even say aloud, "You're welcome, future Melissa!"

2. From the start, decide what's most important to you. What are your nonnegotiables? For me, I'd rather be eating enough healthy stuff during tech week and getting less than 8 hours sleep than the other way around. Ideally I'd have both, but tech week doesn't work that way. You can't have it all, which leads me to my next suggestion...
 
3. Accept that it's going to be temporarily crazy. Once you decide what the nonnegotiable things are for you, you have to realize that something's going to go a bit by the wayside. I once read that human beings can deal with intense bursts of stress and life feeling too busy if they know that eventually life will go back to a slower pace. Remind yourself of this when you feel like go might go a little nuts. Production and tech week may feel like a marathon, but once you acknowledge that it's going to be hard for a few weeks and you will get a break after that, it really does help. 

4. If at all possible, leave five minutes at the end of your day job day to just sit and breathe. I've found that it's much better to leave this little buffer between commitments than to feel like you are constantly working, rushing from one thing to another, with zero downtime in between. It's something small, but I've tried doing it a few times this past week, and it makes a big difference in how I feel when I do start off to a rehearsal.

5. Use a vacation day in the middle of tech week or production week--you will thank yourself! Don't use this time to "cram" for the production either. Use the extra time to catch up on sleep, spend the day in your pajamas watching Netflix, or to take a couple of hours and do something fun that relaxes you. I must admit that I've never done this in the past, but I have just requested a day off from my current job during the upcoming tech week, and I am so excited to know that in the midst of that week, I have built in some extra time. ("You're welcome, future Melissa!")

6. Enjoy it! Throughout the rehearsal schedule so far, even when I've felt pressed for time or like I wished I could get home earlier to spend the evening with my husband, whom I miss so much during these busy weeks, I have to remind myself that I am doing something that I love. I happen to believe that telling a story onstage (as either an actor or a playwright) is what I was put here to do, and I am working to not  let the temporary stress of these busy weeks blind me to that.

Please, please, please let me know what your tips and tricks for production and tech week are! I still feel so new to this balancing act and would welcome any hints that might keep me happy AND healthy during rehearsals (I happen to be typing this post right now with a pretty wicked head cold, so clearly I have yet to master this process).


I leave you with an adorable cat compilation video to celebrate the weekend with. Please forgive the cheesy commentator and let your worries melt away by the off the charts cuteness here:

Last Saturday I went to an all day conference for playwrights called Our Voices, which is a Boston area festival now in its eighth year, that allows new and seasoned female playwrights the opportunity to get to see their work onstage, and receive feedback. The daytime sessions are comprised of thirty minute slots during which your ten minute play is read by actors, and then you get to hear feedback and ask questions of the audience, which was essentially the other playwrights, directors, and actors attending the festival. The evening portion is a public performance of ten minute plays that are treated to full staging.  Showing a play I'd written not just to a close, trusted confidant, but to a roomful of experienced writers, actors, and directors? It sounded scary and exciting at the same time. I've learned that most of the many of the best experiences I've had had started out feeling akin to fear, so I immediately felt drawn to submit my first ten minute play to be considered. I applied to attend back in June with "Untitled Hospital Sketch", and come August when the decisions were made, I was as shocked as I was excited when I got invited to go! My play had been accepted to be read at the daytime session, which meant I got to hear the piece read aloud AND get a delicious twenty minutes devoted completely to discussing the play. As someone who spends a good 50 plus hours commuting and working a day job, this time just for me as a playwright sounded luxurious.
 
It was a great experience, and so much fun to be back in a community of playwrights, actors, and directors, even if just for a day; it was a good reminder that even though we often feel like we live most of the time in no man's land, working alone, we are in fact, numerous and connected. Plus, when I met new people at the festival, instead of asking the dreaded question "What do you do?" they smiled and asked "So when did you start writing? What's your next project?" Once in awhile, this was followed by "What's your day job?" I LOVE this, by the way and have been referring to my pay-the-rent job ever since in this way, my "day job". I don't care how cliche it might sound, that tweak of language has made a big difference for me so far, and I'm going to keep it going.

It was wonderful to get to listen and respond to so many plays throughout the day. Sitting in the dimmed light of that black box theatre felt like being home to me. My reading went well, although I was quite nervous-most of the other playwrights had arranged for actors ahead of time and had even rehearsed. I had taken the event organizer's word for face value that it was not necessary to arrange actors beforehand. She reassured us all before the event that we could simply bring copies of the script and there would be plenty of us to step up and volunteer to cold read. When it was my turn, I brought out five copies of the script and asked for four actors and one person to read stage directions. My fear of no one stepping forward seemed suddenly foolish when out of the seats leapt four actors and one volunteer to read stage directions. After giving them a thirty second synopsis and rustling up a few chairs from the wings, I took my own seat in the front row. I made myself put away my script and sit back and enjoy myself while they read the play. It was amazing and strange and incredibly emotional to hear these strangers reading my words aloud. It felt very intimate. And the novelty was that my self-consciousness  actually melted away (mostly) and I felt so present in that moment, so joyful, just listening. What a novelty! 

I got some very positive feedback from the audience afterwards , generally that the story itself was gripping, and that the writing was strong. One director told me that even a bad play can be rehearsed long enough to be made to look good, but that it spoke to the solid structure and writing of my play that four actors could do such a great cold read with it. That meant a lot to me, especially in light of my nerves about being one of the only playwrights there who had not gathered or rehearsed actors ahead of time. The criticism was thought provoking as well, and involved a lot of conversation around one of the characters who is mentioned in my play but never appears onstage. In fact, this conversation evolved into a hotly contested debate among the audience. If you can allow yourself to listen to the comments without taking them too personally, it's a fascinating experience. It was so much fun to watch these people I had just met that morning truly get attached to the characters and take sides over what should happen next. Some argued that the character would definitely be onstage for the action, while others vehemently disagreed. I wondered if that this just a taste of what it must have felt like to be J.K. Rowling writing the last installment of Harry Potter: making peace with the story you are telling while at the same time trying to accept that you will never please everyone. 

Overall it was an awesome experience though, and made me feel encouraged to keep  writing, both on this blog and on other projects I have been thinking about. Also, I presented my play in the morning, so my mind was free for the rest of the day to watch and respond to almost a dozen more plays. The Wellesley College campus is just gorgeous, they had a lake on campus that I had time to take a nice long walk around during our two hour dinner break. I came home around 11 pm, exhausted but grateful for all the women that I met that day and all the new work that is being created, just around Boston. I felt connected and revitalized by all the theatre  I'd seen and all the conversations I had that day. There is nothing to ward off cynicism of what feel like admittedly dark times with meeting people who are working, often in obscurity, on projects that they believe can change the world.

A week later, here are five take-aways from the festival that I am still thinking about:

1.  I need community.  In my role as an actor and a writer, it's easy to feel isolated and start to work in a vacuum, Sure, a lot of the work we do is done solo, but every now and then it's crucial to surround yourself with others who are doing the same thing. 

2. Talent is admirable, but support and enthusiasm are priceless. I was so touched by people who complimented my play I presented, but may have been more moved by feedback such as "keep working, keep writing, keep going. What you're trying to do is important." We all need to hear that once in awhile.

3. Be generous and specific with feedback and questions. "I really liked it" is not as helpful as "I really connected to the moment between these two characters when they were talking about feeling safe." This idea applies to not just when responding to theatre, but when responding to a loved one. "How did your meeting go? I know you were really hoping the discussion would go well." is so much more personal than "I hope work went well today." It sounds picky, but try it. It makes all the difference. 

4. All the bad stuff, hard times, and disappointments have the potential to be forged into something beautiful. I love my play, and it grew out of an incredibly stressful time in my life. Sitting in the dim lights, hearing my words read aloud by those amazing actors, I realized that I wouldn't trade my play for anything, even that stressful experience. 

5. I said it above, but I'll say it again: the world can seem full of dark and cruel people, but the world is also full of creative, inventive, and joyful people. Don't be pulled down into thinking otherwise. I witnessed writers who have important stories to tell, actors who gave it their all to bring these stories to life, and an audience who wanted to listen. Shakespeare said it best, "O' brave new world, that has such people in't!"

Check out the website for the festival, complete with a few photos here! Here's some photos I snagged from the day as well.