When did a 120 page play become too long?

"The theater, the theater... what's happened to the theater?" sang Danny Kaye in White Christmas.

That's what I asked myself when my full length play, The Guru, was accepted as a possible addition to a theater company's Fall production line-up. The Artistic Director loved the play, and gave me wonderful, positive feedback that made me feel like a real playwright. "You're really good at this," she wrote. 


Thank you, thank you... yes I am... (blush, giggle, swelling of pride). 

"Just one thing, though..."

Uh oh.

"The play is too long. It should be no more than 100 pages. Less is better."

Too long? When did a two-act, 120 page comedy become too long? That equals one hour for each act. Hell, have you read a Shakespeare play? Those things are three-acts and take three-and-a-half-hours to perform. Your butt could fall off from lack of blood flow by the end of Act 2! 

When I was getting my undergrad in Drama at San Francisco State University in the 1990's, a play was typically a little over two hours long: two acts with a fifteen minute intermission. If you left a theater in less than two-and-a-half hours you felt cheated. Who pays $30.00 for a 90 minute show? Ridiculous! You'd have people bad-mouthing your production as low budget and god forbid, amateur. 

But that was 20 years ago. Now, people want to see a show in less than 2 hours.

I asked a friend who teaches playwriting at a college and she confirmed that plays do need to fit within 2 hours, including intermission. But she also said for every rule, there's an exception. Some plays are much longer, and she reminded me about Angels in America, which is the equivalent of three, 3-Act plays and is usually performed over two days. That play won the Pulitzer in 1993.

Then she encouraged me to take another look at my play and see where the language could be tightened up. "It's an opportunity to revise your play and really make it shine."

So I did. I read and re-read my play, chopping out whole sections of dialogue. I looked for anything that slowed down the pace. A farce really should have quick and witty language and lots of action. After a week of hard work, I had the page count down to 115 pages.

Shit.

Calling my friend again, I begged for help. I'd been working on The Guru for five years and had lost all perspective. I needed someone with an ax to chop my play. She agreed to try.

With her help, I got my play down to 98 pages. The process was as challenging as crossing a busy street under blindfold during grad school, because I was afraid one cut would unravel the whole plot. But by chopping so many pages, I think my play is cleaner and the humor more precise.  I think revising for length helped me see it with clearer eyes and a better understanding of how to write comedy.

I sent it back to the theater company and now I wait to see if a director picks it up. Man I hope my play is fine just as it is because after all these years of hard work, I'm sick of the damn thing.

Why have plays gotten shorter? Hasn't everything? Movies, books, albums... full-course dinners. It's just the times we live in and I'm not going to debate if this is a bad thing. We had long attention spans in the so-called "olden days" because there was less to grab our attention. Now we have so much to choose from it's hard to stay focused on one thing. Is that bad? Lots of experts seem to think so. But revising with the knowledge that we need to hold a reader's shorter attention span encourages us to write with precision. Our characters need to show themselves through action and word, not backstory. A little exposition goes a long way. You really have to make every word count. Notice I said revising. Don't worry about it during the writing of your play or story, just write the absolute best story you can create. Then take an ax to it during editing; you need an ax, not a scalpel anymore. "Kill your darlings" has never needed to be more bloody than today. 

First Draft Revision

I am proud to announce that I won Script Frenzy!!!! 

What did I win?

Wait for it... (drum roll please)

(horns tooting)      A year or two of revisions!     (crowd cheering)

Sigh...

Wouldn't it be great if we could just write something brilliant in the first draft when we're energized and excited about it? Instead, the first draft is 95% crap, at least mine always is. The first draft is usually a collection of disorganized scenes and a cast of underdeveloped, whiny characters who don't know what they want. The beginning is typically weak, full of exposition and back story; the climax good, but doesn't include all the elements it needs to be a true climax; and the ending unsatisfying. Writing dialogue is my strength, so it's lucky that this time I wrote a play rather than a novel. But it's still going to take a long time to get the language right for each character, and for the time period (I don't think an upper-class woman living in the 1930's would say "cool").

Revision is exhausting, because you can see what needs to be done, but you can't figure out how to do it.   It's too early for me to get feedback from a reader, so I'll muddle through on my own, focusing on gaps in the plot, inconsistencies, and character development. I work on all three elements at once because they impact each other. As I develop a character, I may discover a motivation that will propel the action of a scene, which can effect the entire plot. The process works the other way as well: a change in the direction of the plot can change the way a character behaves in a scene.

This whole process can feel like remodeling a house of cards, though. Change one element and the whole structure could collapse, which is scary. The threat of collapse raises important questions: if the plot needed that one thing to hold together, what does that one thing need as support so a change won't make the whole story collapse?

But sometimes having the whole piece collapse can be a good thing, because it forces you to see your story in a whole new light. Starting from scratch isn't the end of the work (although it might make you feel like killing the work anyway). It is simply part of the process of building a good story. You will have much stronger characters and a better idea of what direction the story arc takes the second time you write it.

Okay, I admit it... I really hope this play doesn't collapse once I start revisions. I don't have the energy to write it all again from scratch. But I'm in love with my characters right now and the time period is a blast to work with. Think 1930's movies with glamorous women and big sets, lots of dancing and drinking (it is post-prohibition) and witty dialogue. These people are rich and desperate, pretending to have everything they want while the Depression starts taking things away.

The excitement from my first draft is still there. Here's hoping that excitement continues as I work on it for the next year...

... or two...

...or three.

The cure for "resting" manuscripts

Writers are notorious for hiding in their bedrooms, surrounded by books written by other people, while working endlessly on their manuscripts. The story never feels polished enough for other people's eyes. They'll work and work, then decide to "let it rest" by setting the manuscript aside to work on something else that's been "resting." After a while, a writer can stack up a lot of "resting" projects.

Or is that just me?

I have eight manuscripts resting right now: 3 plays, 2 novels, 1 essay and 2 short stories. I'm waiting for feedback on a play and the essay, but I've had plenty of feedback on the others to jump back in and finish. But now the problem is the manuscripts have piled up so deep I don't know which one to start with. Should I chose the one closest to completion, or the ones who've been waiting in the drawer the longest? The one I might have time to actually finish? The one that is easiest to work on? Or start with the hardest and work my way through with diligence?

And I can't blame it all on grad school and motherhood either. I started most of these projects before school started, back when I had plenty of time to finish them. In all the years I've been writing, I've managed to fully complete four things: a 10 minute play which was performed two years ago at Mendocino College; two essays which both appeared in Hip Mama magazine several years apart; and one short story which might be published in an anthology. The rest of the thousands of pages I've written have either gone into the garbage or are now "resting," because setting something aside to rest means you're still working on it. You don't have to hold it up and say to the world, "This is my best work."

That's the reason we writers set manuscripts aside before completing them, at least that's why I do it. Never finishing something means I gain the satisfaction of being a writer without the humiliation of not being good enough for other people's reading eyes. There are no rejection letters when I let a manuscript rest, and I can always go back to it and keep polishing until it's surpasses perfection, which is impossible for anyone, even Tony Morrison, to achieve (although that woman comes pretty damn close).

But another reason I never finish anything is pure boredom. Revising until you have a finished, polished manuscript suitable for possible publication is boring! Tedious! Dull! There is nothing new or exciting anymore; all the characters have been developed and the plot plotted. You know how it ends and how the story gets there. There are no new discoveries, just plain-old-boring word manipulation. Yawn...

What's the cure for chronic manuscript resting? I suppose just grabbing a manuscript, sitting your butt in the chair and working on it until it's finished is a good way to break the cycle. That's what I tell my writers to do, but I'm obviously terrible at taking my own advice. So what is a writer to do with eight manuscripts resting?

Eeny, meeny, miney, moe...

Back of book info, revision number 178

Okay everyone, tell me what you think about this version for the Punk Anthology. It's still rough, so I know I need to polish it more, and I know my copy-editor will have a few words to say about it, but do you think this is closer to the type of copy that speaks to our target reader as well as compelling enough to make you want to buy a copy?

Punk is the only music genre I know that consistently opens its mouth about taboo social and economic subjects in our society. Nothing is more honest or relevant to me than that." - Mic Schenk

"Everything that makes my life better is an offshoot or direct result of my having gotten into punk music." – Chestnut

"That was one of my lessons; you don't have to fly your colors to be a punk or have a punk attitude." - Dick Wizmore

Here are the true stories from people whose lives were transformed and empowered by the frenetic, questioning, creative energy of punk rock; stories and poems written by punks from the USA and Europe, who share their own unique vision on what it means to be punk. Written by musicians, teachers, artists, librarians, nurses, bakers, parents, and social workers, the stories are funny, sometimes tragic, and always surprising.

Punk Rock Saved My Ass explores the strength of the punk movement to positively impact an individual’s life by providing a community to those who feel lost, and by inspiring them to push the boundaries of their own creativity. You may never hear a punk rock song the same way after reading Punk Rock Saved My Ass.


Your comments are much appreciated.