Tonight, I sat in a living room in North Carolina and listened to some local friends here read my play about some kids on a porch in Durham, North Carolina.
Featured in the photo to this blurb's left: actors and people listening.
It's amazing what substantial time away from a play can change how I hear it.
Six months ago, my mentor went to a reading and told me it was missing 20 pages, plus more sex and violence. I said "PSHAH" (which is a thing I never say, you guys) and also "Uhh there's a lot of sex and violence."
But tonight I was like "Oooh. Yeah. It's, for sure, missing 20 pages. And some sex."
Jury's out on the violence, Thurber.
But, as usual, you're probably right.
Mr. T read stage directions. Not my friend Jon Haas, featured here.
Mr. T did.
I am an optimist.