working you into a lather


– 5 June 2016 –

Happy Sunday!

This week’s prompt puts me in mind of a series.

It didn’t start out to be a series, but I’ve been in a number of cities of late and I walk a lot, and this was the second incongruous thing in what is now, in my mind, a series. It’s about men – one colleague says we’re seeing more and more inexplicable plays nowadays because men’s stories have all been told yet they’re still authors of 80% of plays produced so they dig into their unconscious and come up with interesting images that nobody wants to admit make no sense, so everyone pretends they’re mystical – very Emperor’s New Clothes, if you ask me – but this is turning into a digression which was not my objective, although we all know of my great romance with digression, in blog posts at least.

A few days ago in the Flatiron District of New York City, a city in which a homeless person or at least a begging person can be found on pretty much every block, a man was reclining in an alcove, swathed in a bright white down comforter. He was clean, too, what I could see of him. He looked like a ski instructor, chiseled features, tan, watch-cap pulled over his ears, clothing unfrayed and unsoiled. I’m unsure of the object of his gaze – he looked right through me – I’m used to that, as an invisible middle-aged woman – but as I walked away, I thought of the gentleman in Portland, Maine from the previous week.

This isn’t my story to tell – or series of stories to tell – I’m sure some other playwright will see the correlations and connotations and write a Pulitzer Prize-winning play about these men and perhaps others – I hesitated lengthily before publishing this because there are already far too many stories about men in the aether. And on the stages. Why did I publish this? I’m a catalyst, by nature, and denying one’s nature can only cause implosion.

If nearly 70% of theater tickets are bought by women, why are 80% of produced plays written by, acted by (same 80/20 split among roles as among playwrights), and about men?

But that’s a horse of a different color.

Happy writing.










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