Starting tomorrow, I am going to be a part of a week-long playwright's workshop. It was supposed to start today, but when do airplanes ever cooperate with the plans of people. C'est la vie. Anyway, I am working on my first attempt at musical writing, instead. Well, the book for a musical anyway. While I do enjoy music, both the listening and the playing of it, I am not what most would deem "gifted" with those composition abilities.
Because I am sure that my faithful readers are dying to discover what this musical is about, I will tell you several words: whores, naivete, and love. Why? Why not? I have been told again and again to write from wherever I am in my life at that point and time; ergo, whores, naivete, and love.
I'm just kidding. There's no naivete in my life.
(shakes head to snap out of weird inner-monologue)
Anyway, the real premise of the show is about questioning when people should just go with what they're told to do and when they should undermine the system, and how much that might cost them in the long-run. To write all of this, I have my whiteboards running at full-power, my iTunes is gracing me with music, my sticky tack is ready to be worked over to help my neural connection, and my coffee pot is now only half-full.
So here I sit, a twitchy recluse writing a musical, while the blinding sun is burning the world outside. If I don't show up for dinner, people should probably arrange a search party, start with my room and then move on to local ditches.
