Andy Accioli

Last summer I spoke to a literary manager at a repertory theater company.  He had read two of my plays and determined that although he liked them, they were too edgy for his audience.  He added that they ended with more questions than they answered.

Your point?

If a theater-goer emerges from a performance and now is challenged intellectually, is that wrong?  Is that not the object of writing?  Present a main idea and then cause the audience member to think of it for the ride home…or for the rest of their life.

Or has the American theater turned into one of: heavyset princess meets troll..brings troll home to meet the king and queen parents…they marry, move to trolly-wood where they happily reside for the rest of their lives…the end?

I am currently in the research phase of a play that I am writing which blends a number of conspiracy theories into one plot.  Talk about leaving the audience with more questions than it answers.  If there are 300 audience members, I would be willing to guarantee that 250 will walk out with varying opinions. They certainly will have different thoughts than what they had prior to seeing the play.  (The other 50 will probably mutter “Huh?” as they try to figure out where they should grab a late night snack.)

I have always maintained that the audience brings to that theatrical performance all of their life experiences.  Let’s face it, some people have had more drama in their lives than what unfolds on the stage in front of them.  (And I’m not just talking about the drama queens we all know.)  To these folks, what some might consider too edgy is not edgy enough.

Sometimes you can drive yourself nuts trying to come up with a solution to a nagging problem.  It churns over and churns over in your head to the point where you realize that you are never going to come up with an answer.  At least not while you’re dwelling on it.

I had a problem like that (writer’s block?)  yesterday.

So what do I do to get unblocked?  Of course, I – along with 11 others – went to play high stakes bingo at Foxwoods Casino last night.  For the record, I am not 80 years old but given our age blended with the 3,000+ blue hairs (those between 80 and 100), we definitely lowered the mediam age of the room considerably.

Some of us opted for video bingo machines as some of us might be lacking in the motor skills department.  I stink at doing repetitive anything including finding a Bingo number called on 9 bingo games at the same time.  It wouldn’t be so bad, I suppose, if the bingo caller would speak with a tad less speed than an automatic machine: “B-7, O-73,  G-57…”.  With a video machine all you have to remember to do is tap on the small ball with the called number on it and the machine will automatically cover the number for you.  That is if you are blessed by the bingo gods by having that particular number  on all 18 cards that are magically crammed into your machine.  (I already told you how I am repetitively task deficient…there were times I’d forget to tap the ball with the number on it.)

It was at one point – while in bingo-la-la land – that the solution to my writing dilemma popped into my head.  Ideas were once again flowing as I excused myself, turned my machine over to my wife to let her fingers do the tapping while I went outside the huge bingo hall so I could jot down some key points of my breakthrough.

That done.  I returned to the blue hair hall, er, I mean the bingo hall.

The night was uneventful until Angela, a long time friend, was unexpectedly delayed from returning to her seat after a brief intermission.  Seems she was being held-up by a one-armed bandit. (Those of you below 30, a one-armed bandit is a slot machine.)  Not seeing her return, I quickly grabbed her paper sheet of bingo cards and her number marker.  Now, the guy who barely could keep up with his video machine was going to do the impossible and simultaneously also find the called numbers on her 9 bingo cards.  Let’s put it to you this way, by the time I finished finding the first number called, there were probably 4 or 5 other numbers called that I didn’t have a clue what they were.  At that point, Jim started:  “I went to the Andy Accioli School of Bingo Instruction which guarantees you will lose at least 99% of all bingo games you play.”  He and I both lost it at that point.  I didn’t even bother to try to find any other numbers on Angela’s 9 bingo cards.  I did tear off the sheet and quickly threw it away before she returned.  (By the way when she managed to extract herself from the clutches of her slot machine, she asked how she did, I told her as sincerely as I could, “Sorry.  You lost.”)

I have an acting friend in New York who did some off-Broadway work.  She would tell me about not leaving her apartment in case THE CALL would come in.  (Cell phone, anyone?  Or when you get THE CALL does it work better on a land line?)  She finally got relief from her apartment-i-tis by seeing a shrink.  I got my relief from my writer-i-tis for 15 bucks at Foxwoods Bingo Hall.  Maybe you can too.

Every morning my wife and I hit the local Planet Fitness gym (Warwick, RI) at 6AM.  And, every morning we see this friendly PF staffer (friendly, at 6AM?…yup), Jona Cedeno.

About a month ago, he looked completely exhausted.  Ordinarily I’d give a quick “How ya doing?” and drag my sorry butt onto a treadmill.  But this morning, he looked exceptionally tired so I asked him if he had a big night.  He responded that he spent the night rehearsing a play he was in.  Ding. Ding. Ding.  Now you’re talking my language.

I asked him which play.  “Take Me Out”, he responded.  Ah, Richard Greenberg’s 2003 Tony Award winner. I said that we would go and see him in “Take Me Out”.  He cautioned me that there was male nudity in it as it took place in a men’s baseball team’s locker room.  I told him that I knew the play…and I knew what to expect.  (Hell, have you seen the male locker room @ PF…I’ll leave that post for another day.) Then I went on to tell Jona that I write plays.  One of them was Candy Apples involving a very proper woman getting drunk, removing her top and prancing around in her bra.   I added that I was more embarrassed than she or the audience when I saw it performed.

That morning while on the treadmill I thought: male nudity in Rhode Island.  I don’t think so.  They’ll probably get down to their underwear…and the shower scenes would be performed with a panel blocking  full frontal views.

Wrong.

Last night we schlepped to the 2^nd Story Theatre in Warren, Rhode Island.  Quite frankly I didn’t know what to expect as I had never been there before.  Okay, if Jona and the cast can bare all, I’ll bare all.  I had never been to 2^nd Story as I prejudged it as being part of the good, the bad and the ugly local theater scene.  Obviously Trinity Rep held the good category, which only left two options for 2^nd Story in my prejudicial, uninformed view: the bad or the ugly.

Once again, I got smacked by a two by four last night knocking some sense in me.  2^nd Story was neither bad nor ugly.

We arrived and I was extremely nervous about their ticket procedure (or lack thereof).  You see, when you make reservations, you pay with a credit card and they record your name.   As soon as you enter the theater, you give your name to a receiving person who checks you off the list and you proceed to be seated in any available (non-reserved) seating which is handled by an extremely competent ushering staff.  There is a head-honcho there, Jonathan, quickly working to seat all 150 members of the audience.

In looking at the bare stage I envisioned platforms being rolled in.  Little did I know what magic Ed Shea, the director (and Artistic Director of 2^nd Story) was going to perform with a bare stage  and a scrim backdrop behind which a number of scenes took place.

Okay, bare stge.  Since I loved Richard Greenberg’s writing, my next thought was how a bunch of local actors – sorry, Jona and cast – could ever present such an emotional, powerful play.

Lights dimmed, Kippy took the stage and the rest is history.  You know how in Jerry Maguire when Jerry returns from a business trip and starts to babble on to Dorothy (in front of a roomful of ladies) and she simply responds “You had me at hello”.  Well, Kippy, Take Me Out, The Cast, Ed Shea and the 2^nd Story Theatre had me from Kippy’s opening lines.

This experience – excuse the metaphor – was a Grand Slammer for me.

Unfortunately I cannot categorize 2^nd Story as fitting into the good, the bad or the ugly of our local theater scene.  It can only be categorized as the exceptional.

Can’t wait to see 2^nd Story’s next production: Tracy Letts’ “August: Osage County”.  (Call for tickets: 401/247-4200…don’t worry, don’t worry your name will be on their list).

P.S. A playwright is a horrendous audience member.  Why?  As the play begins, you start to think of the actors you are seeing in terms of which character they would be in the plays you have written: Kevin Broccoli would be Freddie in my At Heaven’s Door; Ara Boghigian would be Jim Cummings and Eric Behr would be Frank Gallo in my White-Collar Crime; Jona Cedeno would be John Davis, Jeff Church would be Craig Carlson and Tim White would be Jim Hanover in my newly completed Life Don’t Give You No Do Overs…sorry other cast members for not mentally plugging you into my other plays but I’ve got to focus on “Take Me Out”.

If you cannot handle rejection, writing is the wrong business to be in.

Most decisions over our future are being made by people and are therefore highly subjective.  The value of our project, for example in writing a play, is decided by a theater’s literary manager or a literary assistant.

Does a rejection in any way diminish the fact that you have created a worthwhile project?  Absolutely not.

The fact is that the person making a decision is reviewing your project as it would relate to their market.  Again, in the case of playwrighting, a theater may have a problem with profanity in a play as the primary market for their theater may not want to hear cussing.  Obviously my plays Candy Apples or Life Don’t Give You No Do Overs would not be suitable to their audience and therefore these plays would be rejected within the first few pages.

If a theater appeals to a gay audience, At Heaven’s Door, would be appealing given the “Freddie” character.  A traditional theater would tend to not accept this type of play as their audience would probably find “Freddie” an uncomfortable character.  Therefore I would expect a rejection from this type of theater.

There are times when rejections flow simply due to the tremendous volume of plays submitted for their review.  They do not have the time or staff to completely consider each submission.  (One theater’s literary associate rejected my Candy Apples play because it did not answer a particular issue.  Had she read the play to its end, she would have seen that it did in fact resolve that issue.)

If you have ever been involved with network marketing, you are taught one thing early on: some will, some won’t, so what.  In other words, some will join your business, some won’t join your business, so what if they don’t join your business.  In the case of a play submission: some will like it, some won’t like it, so what if they don’t like it.

I discussed this issue of rejection with a friend of mine.  We came up with the idea of including a (tongue in cheek) preprinted postcard with each submission for ease of response:

Oh, well, have to go . Have a ton of submission material to send out for my latest play “Rejection”.  (Only kidding, that’s not its name.  Or is it?)

You want to write.  Don’t have kids (and don’t get married).   Especially now with cell phones, texting, emailing…trust me, they’ll find you.

Let me give you an example from my not to0 recent past (yesterday).

I sat down at my computer determined to start a new play that has been churning within me for about a year now.  Yesterday was the day…I would write nonstop without any interruption until the final curtain.

“Act 1. Scene 1.”

Phone rings.  No, I had not written that in the script but my phone actually did ring.  It was from my #1 son informing me that yesterday his school department issued layoff notices and after working within the system for seven years, he received one.  I spent some time assuring him that he would be called back and this was only a procedural thing mentioning the fact that his mom, my wife, had received a layoff each year of her first ten years of teaching.

Okay, back to writing.

“Act 1. Scene 1.”

#3 son comes into my (home) office and tells me about #1 son who had just sent him a text.  I said that I already knew.  He happened to be home because he is a part-time teacher in the same school system and would substitute teach on the days he was not a part-time teacher.  As it happened he was not called in to sub yesterday so it provided him with plenty of time to talk…TO ME…about how bleak the prospects look for his own teaching career since he was even lower on the teacher seniority totem pole of #1 son.

We discussed the reasons for so many teacher layoffs and declining enrollments: in our cul de sac of ten houses each with four bedrooms only one still had school age kids.  every other house – including our own – had children outside of the K – 12 school system.  Being the ever thoughtful son, he said that we should move into a condo so that a family with young children could occupy our home (along with the others without school age kids).  I told him I couldn’t agree with him more: go talk to your mother.

Now where was I?  I remember…

“Act 1. Scene 1.”

Phone rings.  Nope.  Still not in the script.  Our daughter calls.  Have we heard about #1 son?  I assured her I had.  She wondered what could be done about it.  Not wasting an opportunity to remind her that our friends were grandparents and we were not, I responded that there wasn’t much we could do about it but “you can do plenty.   Get married, have kids and re-populate the school system so your brothers would have jobs.”  Hello?  Hello?  Did you hang up???

“Act 1. Scene 1.”

Text from my wife: #1 son get laid off.  For the love of God.  I know.  I know.  Call from my wife: “After school, I have to bring my car to be serviced and I don’t want to go alone.  Can you come with me?”  Sure, no problem.

“Act 1. Scene 1.”

#2 son calls from Orlando.  Since he is a mechanical engineer with a firm that does quite a bit of school construction, he felt as though the school populations down there were expanding rapidly and they would need a gaggle of new teachers.   He wanted me to tell his brother – #3 son – to relocate with him to Florida and get a teaching job down here.  Okay, I assured him I would mention it.

Since I was at my computer, let me check out the various Orlando area school districts to see what the teacher employment prospects were.  After just over an hour I realized that it was not all that promising.

Oh, my goodness, It is nearly three in the afternoon and  I have nothing to show for my planned all day writing session.

“Act 1. Scene 1.”

3:05.  No that was not the time in the script.  That’s when my wife called to tell me to be ready as she was swinging by to pick me up at 3:10.  I said, okay but I just have to finish the new play I started this morning.

 “Act 1.  Scene 1. To be continued…”

You need a successful (money making) play to attract an agent. You need an agent, in most cases,  to  attract a theater to consider your play for production hopefully leading to a successful run.

Oi.

First, let’s look at how success is defined.

You might define success as having completed your play in the first place.  However, success in the eyes of an agent is whether or not you are or have the potential of getting the cash register ringing.  (A theater has to survive financially and, in most cases, has to be concerned whether or not our play will motivate audiences to come to their theater and see it.)

Agents have the same work week, time-wise,  we all have.  Do they spend their work time promoting an unknown entity (little ole me or you) or someone who is relatively known in theater circles and has successful (money making) productions to their credit?  Obviously, they want the proven playwright.  The rest of us are questions marks in their eyes.

When you search The Dramatists Gild Resource Directory or the Dramatists Sourcebook you realize how few playwright agents there are when you compare it to the number of people writing plays.  So, my fellow playwrights, you can probably understand why your mass mailing to all listed agents is not producing the result you are seeking: agent representation.  They probably are overwhelmed each day with these representation requests.

What I have learned in my entire business career (my “day” job) is that you have to make decisions that once made you cannot undo.  So too in my writing, specifically my play writing and the topics/plots I wish to write about.  Topics that cannot be “undone”.  Topics that may not be money-makers to the level of the humongously successful  battle of a good witch vs. the perceived evil witch (Wicked) or a group of guys venturing out to convert the world (Book of Mormon).

Years ago I wrote my first play called Rebel In The Ranks which dealt with how the hierarchy in the Catholic church will quiet those, especially their priests, with whatever means they thought necessary.  Today, after nearly a gazillion and a half revisions, Rebel In The Ranks  has become White-Collar Crime.  A hot topic when I originally wrote it….hotter today.

When I decided to write my most recent play Life Don’t Give You No Do Overs, I focused on the conflict a family faces in deciding whether or not to donate organs from their fatally injured relative.  What brought me to this topic is the fact that there is such a critical organ donation shortage.  For example, here in the US, there are over 90,000 people on the national kidney donation waiting list.   Now I could have written a two liner with just that startling number and called it a day.  (2 minute play, anyone?).  Instead I have the action taking place in a hospital waiting room where their relative who is being kept alive on life support is a 17 year old boy who suffered a fatal football injury.  The other family in the waiting room is there anxiously waiting for their son, who has had a heart condition since birth, to receive a heart transplant.

If you have made the decision to be a playwright, write about something that may be near and dear to you.  Something you are passionate about.  In spite of not having a theater accept your play submission as you are not represented.  In spite of you not being represented by an agent because you lack a substantive production history (cha-ching, cha-ching) for your plays.  At least you know that you have had one successful reading (by you) of a topic that you care about.

(Actors, you are in the same boat.  You have to be noticed by agents…you need agents to represent you…and so the Actor’s Circle of Life begins…)

You know the age-old riddle “What came first the chicken or the egg?”  Well, when I write a play, I can honestly say that before I write the opening line, I have the end in mind.

Most times I write the end of the play first and then craft the beginning and middle.   This way I have a definable target that I want to reach.

I know, I know. For some this might seem out of the main stream.  (Please don’t report me to the playwrighting police.)  It’s kind of like living your life knowing how it will end.

Isn’t that what writing a play is all about?  Each character that we introduce has a purpose to the overall theme of the play.  Some minor.  Some major.  All necessary.  Do we not have a keen sense of why we bring a character to life (or death)?

By my writing the end, first, I know the importance of each character in assisting me to get to that end.

Given that, there are times when I may change an ending after a reading, after attending a rehearsal or, in the case of Candy Apples, after seeing it performed.  Let me give you an example. In Candy Apples, the original ending had Mrs. Apple, being carted off to a nursing home by her self-centered daughter, Lynn, who was eager to resume her life (and wealth) in Florida without the burden of her mom.  The play originally ended with a longtime family friend securing the house after Lynn & her mom left…his final piece of business was to touch the rocker where Mrs. Apple always sat and give it a push so it would rock as he heft and as the lights fade to out.  I rewrote the ending to have (spoiler alert: don’t read any further if it will bother you to know the ending) a major twist.  The new ending had Brenda, one of Lynn’s sisters who was killed off between Acts 1 and 2, re-appear to answer a phone call from her sister, Jessie.  Turns out the entire play was a dream (nightmare)…the final line had Lynn, beating on the door just arriving from Florida.  She screams  “For the love of God, will somebody open this fuckin’ door?”…the same line used when Lynn made her first entrance in Brenda’s “dream”.

In White-Collar Crime the ending is a recording left on an answering machine.  Lights fade while it goes through its clicking to rewind messages.  Freddie concludes At Heaven’s Door by telling the audience to drive carefully going home as they’re extremely busy in heaven tonight [“…You know that tsunami they’ve been predicting starting off Africa’s Canary Islands hitting the east coast of the US of A?  Well, it just hit ‘bout 20 minutes ago.  Bad news for the east coast, good news for Indiana …they now have beachfront properties.”]

I love endings.